


WEDLOCKED

by spnsmile



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angry Dean Winchester, Angry Kissing, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Flirting, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Falling in Love, Castiel and Dean Winchester Fight, Castiel and Dean Winchester First Meet, Castiel and Dean Winchester Get Married, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel and Dean Winchester Live Together, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Saps, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Chaos, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Dorks in Love, Dystopia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, End of the World, Enemies to Lovers, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Evil Soul Society, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Smut, Forced Marriage, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Husbands, Idiots in Love, Injury Recovery, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Pain, Physical Abuse, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Dean Winchester, Protectiveness, Psychological Torture, Rebellion, Romantic Fluff, Rough Kissing, SPN Dystopia Bang 2020, Sharing a Room, Smut, Temporary Amnesia, Top Dean Winchester, Torture, Virus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24320824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnsmile/pseuds/spnsmile
Summary: Dean Winchester, the leader of the Southern Resistance, makes a decision to stay in the capital keeping his brother alive, meeting his new husband with a promise to never break.Castiel Novak, a Skywalker, has just returned to Discordia from his trip to outer space. Trained by the best Capacitors from VOLTS, the paramilitary officers, he finds himself with a new mission— to connect with a rebel and transform him into a submissive member of the society.Can Castiel convince Dean to stay by his side? Or will he turn against the society threatening Dean?
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 30
Kudos: 36
Collections: SPN Dystopia Bang 2020





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Shackled by marriage  
> Connected by circumstance  
> Dystopia Be Yours.
> 
> To my wonderful artist and patient beta who stuck with me all the way to the end! Oddsocksandstuff, you're awesome! For Dystopia Bang 2020! What a year! What a month to be writing! Thank you for this and enjoy!
> 
> Link to art! https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by  
> Enjoy!

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Artificial sky of the galaxy reigns above their heads, giving anyone looking at their monitor a view of what the Walkers of the Universe can see from their station in the Galaxy IV. The scheduled programming is _midnight._ The city is asleep with only the silhouette of black buildings varying in different sizes and shapes, windowless, all ports closed, each building linked to another by skyways. This is Division Core—the Capital of Discordia, the last piece of what was once called _Earth Sea_ seven hundred years ago. Now nothing but a circular space of black water hundred kilometers below.

Silhouette of Four Dark Towers reign with blinking red headlights illuminate the Division Core, each with red unblinking lights positioned signaling. Zeppelins hang above the sleeping fortress, waiting for the scheduled alarm that will signal the break of the man-made skylight.

On the North East side of the wall, the VOLTs—paramilitary personnel executing the strict implementation of the Discordia Law is hunting a group of intruders who someone managed to overrun the system. Among them are the two Developers watching the monitor closely. They watch as shadows in dirty ragged clothing peek from behind a ruined wall and run to the other.

“These rebels…”

“But you have to credit them,” says another, older voice, “One of them was able to open the Gates. It means someone within the group possesses a brilliant mind. We have to get that IT and dispose of the others.”

“True… What happened to that rebel? Anna?”

“She’s been sent down to Diode approximately 14:00 A.Z.”

“She did not change her mind? Not after her husband…?”

“No.”

“And Gadreel?”

“Back on his duty over the U-Bank. Like nothing happened.”

“Ah. I suppose it was a wrong pairing.”

“I had hoped not. Anna is considered a Level 3 Resistor. Her face on the monitor of the walls could have discouraged any further rebellion from the Disposed Unit.”

There’s a mocking scoff.

“These rebels, these Resistors are so few in numbers. What are they fighting for against our force? They live in the slums of the Division and chooses death even when we offer them a quality life?”

“It is a set of deteriorating mentality those who have not accepted the Division’s vision are bound to suffer. That is why we take care of the young minds. They will carry this to the future while we eradicate any threat for the Division’s future.”

“True. What happened to Kevin Tran? Level 1?”

“He has been passive with his partner Samandriel for many months now.”

“So that pair is a success?”

“Yes. But Tran does not entail much encouragement from the Resistors to surrender.”

“Then we have to catch a bigger Resistor name. Level 5- maximum.”

“If it is a big name… we can always shift all forces to the South wall where the Resistors have camped on the abandoned weapon facility. We do not send armed forces in that city, it’s an old nuclear plant that exploded. Anyone in that vicinity is considered highly contaminated. But… rumors have it it’s where the Hunter lives.”

There’s a pause. The shadow turns its head. “The Hunter? The leader of the Resistor’s South Faction?”

“Yes. A highly dangerous man. The previous commander in chief had a scuffle with him on the South East wall—the man who prowls the walls on his own, his men once caught on camera taking all the defective weapons from the canner.”

“He is clever. We will send men to annihilate his group as an example—"

“I don’t think that’s—”

“Start believing then. I need full VOLTs sent to the lower levels. We need a face that can stop all these rebels now.” 

* * *

_“Shit.”_

Dean hisses as he pulls back from his hiding spot— a piece of broken wall of a collapsing building on the outskirts of Division Core known as Hectare 9. He glances back to his companions, all slouching back heavily in their own hiding spots, their eyes darting left to right nervously, hands tightly clutching their v-rex tasers.

Dean presses his cold back on the wall, a little unnerved at the presence of the VOLTs. VOLTs are the paramilitary force of Division Core, D.C in short, that puts surveillance on people unwilling to have their identities be tagged in the system. VOLTs who are specially designed to keep the peace over the registered citizens, protecting them from external threats that include people dying of radiation, viruses and other ailments.

What Dean doesn’t understand is why the DC government wouldn’t leave the unregistered alone. They have ignored their presence for many years, why are they so eager to capture his members? Because from Kevin, to Anna, to Joe? All those people captured by the Division were either found trapped in the Globe or plunging down to the deadly acid black Earthsea.

In reality, Division Core had left them alone until they begin to suspect the growing number of Resistors. Dean sometimes wonders if Kevin betrayed them. The last he remembers is seeing the face of Kevin on the large monitor walls of Division Core, married and happy with his thumbprint all over the screen.

Dean grits his teeth. He will never be one of those sheep. He would never let anyone have his thumbprint because he knows exactly what happens when they get the print. Dean knows the horror and would not let it happen again.

“What are we gonna do?” asks Benny roughly behind him. Dean jumped a little, surprised at his presence. Then he frowns.

“We can’t move, they’re all over the place. If they notice us now, they’ll take these guys and you and I both know they’re as helpless as they look.” He nods towards Garth who looks ready to jump out of his own skin.

“Wanna make a short trip to the right?” Benny asks, nudging Dean, “We can take left and right, then meet at the port. Give the kids time to get their heads.”

Dean nods. He takes one look at Hectare 9, then raises his head to the ruins of what was once a core part of the metal city. Dean stares at his companions again, sizing up their courage before giving his right-hand man a look

“Okay, you go get the kids off the perimeter, I’ll distract the VOLTs. I’ll use the secret passage under Street 56. That good?”

‘Are you gonna be okay?” Benny asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

“You don’t need to ask.”

Benny gives him one last calculating look before he crosses over the other side. Dean glares when he sees the group are not moving.

“ _Go on! Get out of here!”_ he hisses. One by one he sees them move with a little bit of prodding from Benny. Once they’re gone, Dean begins crawling on the other side far away from Benny and his team. They were only supposed to be here at the illegal radioactive zone but they’ve never been ambushed like this before. The entire Hectare 1-10 had been abandoned ever since Hectare 1-3 cracked into the Division, deemed it too perilous to live in for its citizens after the catastrophic earthquake that killed hundreds of people. But it’s not just this that makes the entire plane so dangerous, Division Core decided to shut down its precious citizens inside the gate behind its Titanium walls, leaving the homeless and seniors outside to die.

That’s when the Resistors begin the rebellion. Before Dean knows, cold metal presses on his neck and jolts the consciousness out of his body. Darkness consumes him.

* * *

Infinite, endless space holds no threat to Castiel Novak. He learned to embrace this void as part of his mission long ago. No, the threat was not in this empty, this expanse of nothingness offering only peace. The biggest threat of this age remains to be manmade. His fellow G-sapiens who tampered with everything from genetic ageing to nuclear zero and years later this is where they are, still fighting over a piece of the plane. By fighting, he bitterly means the hover footage taken from outside the walls of Discordia where Resistors attack the gates. It's nothing short of his expectations. Insurgents formed by outcasts and other outlaws from distant lands band together to invade the stronghold but Discordia never fell and it won't, not even with a new ring leader from the Southern Resistor's side.

Blue eyes follow a certain man moving in the front lines. A man donning a dark ragged jacket with a slight oddity in his gait. Castiel can't deny how the man has captured his attention since his tactical bombing of the South reservoir. A man whose profile reached him even in the distant outer space screaming to be known.

This man, _Dean Winchester._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The incredible art kudos for master oddsocksandstuff!  
> Please check it out here!  
> https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by
> 
> :) Thank you for reading!


	2. Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fateful meetings...

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Silence prevails for a moment, only the bright stars speak volumes of tranquillity until it is disrupted by the sound of machinery that rumbles from the metal ground. The tinted oval glasses skydome powered by seafloor nuclear reactors mechanically cracks open to receive Capsule 54 spacecraft where it lands swiftly inside Gate Zero.

Capsule engineers and media personnel are there to greet the only Skywalker that came out of the capsule who returned after a ten-year mission. He comes out of the spacecraft with a mass of messy dark locks falling in different places as he runs a hand on it, brilliant blue eyes flashing in directions of people welcoming his return. He is one particularly handsome man, but his face crumples in the middle at the crowd. His face is found in front of sky monitors of every building as part of the recruitment process for Skywalker’s unit, and daresay it was effective. 

Wearing his Galaxy Suit 54 of dark and white, he shakes hands cordially and even gets a photograph for the _Discordia Weekly_ with a tight smile. He shifts from one foot to another, trying to keep a distance from the group when one of the engineers with tag _Masters_ approaches him after the short-lived excitement has died down.

“Leave the unicorn alone, it doesn’t like getting smothered after that ten-year trip. Do you all want him keeling over for getting overcrowded? Keep it all down.” She says evenly and the crowd dispersed, leaving her and the Skywalker staring at each other.

The tightness in his lips doesn’t disappear much to her amusement.

“Hey, Clarence.” she chirps, her dark hair in a ponytail with fitting white uniform laced with black linings and the Four-tower logo on her chest. The man called Clarence arches an eyebrow, jawline cutting, blue eyes piercing, voice deep and measured. “It’s Skywalker to you, _Meg._ Not unicorn. They’re not real.”

“Only because you’re looking in the wrong place,” Her dark eyes gleam at the way he says her name. “Still got a tower stuck up your ass, I see.”

“Still classy, too. Ten years is not long, I already miss isolation.” They begin walking side by side in comfort. “Thank you for the save.” He adds after a moment. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the crowd.

“Should’ve kept your plane on one of those moons, then.”

“There’s only one moon in this side of the galaxy.”

“I’ll take your word for it, Mr Hot Stuff whose face launched thousands of careers for your unit? You’re a celebrity, Clarence. But remember when you were just a smoldering hot bee out of the Developer’s Tower with bright blue eyes who wants to see the universe. Now _you’re a man.”_ She smirks and eyes his fingers with complete silver rings. “Still disconnected, I see. I expected you’d come home from one of those planets with a baby bundle on one arm and a lady on the other.”

“Ten years isn’t that long.” He says, voice levelling when he spots some of his Unit waving at him wearing the same thick spacesuit. “And I see you’re different?” he eyes her two silver rings left and right. They begin walking towards the shuttle to disinfect his clothes and him at the same time. Meg isn’t scared of anything, not even space allergies.

“Can’t wait for you forever to fall from the sky now, can I?” she quirks a smile, “You better get yourself a partner before all the good ones go, Clarence.”

“Don’t worry about me. Maybe my partner’s outside the walls.”

Meg screws her face and Castiel is glad she doesn’t reply with the common phrasal answer to such notion that their partners come from the war-torn landscape unprotected by the walls. Castiel remembers Dean Winchester. Of all people.

Meg stops following him and he can only turn his head to catch her eyes.

“If you’re looking for a partner, you’re lucky. There was a breach just yesterday. The VOLTs are trying to silence it, but you know local media. The itinerants from the outside are getting restless. Earthsea water has risen another temperature, you know.”

“It means the Earth’s Big Bang is expected to happen soon,” Castiel concluded while Meg nods with arms crossing on her chest.

“The rising temperature is getting alarmingly high up to a boiling point. We need a new planet to relocate Division Core somewhere and we’re hoping you are the bearer of good news?”

Castiel smiles. “Who knows. I’ll meet you later, Meg.”

“Yes, you stink, SKYWALKER Novak.”

* * *

Dean’s vision doubles at the glaring white lights on the ceiling directed on his face. He feels clammy, his muscles all turned to lead and his throat dry as the desert. He blinks and tries to move his neck only to get his vision swimming again.

His eyes begin to droop when the memory of his brother being hauled to his feet, head lolling down his chest, alerts him into full awareness. It takes a moment; he starts by moving his fingers.

Still working. It takes longer than he expected but he tries his legs next. The tiny wriggling limbs do not feel they belong to him. Dean rasps for air badly needed by his burning chest. His brain works fiercely as it reminds him of the worse to come. With a grunt, he forces his eyes open and lifts them to his surrounding to assess his situation

The room is empty. Only blinking machines and monitors accompanies him while he lies there on the table. He tries moving again then hears the jangling sound of metal restraining his hands.

Looking down the chain links on his wrists, Dean growls. He was surprised when he is able to move them. The chains covering his wrist and his ring fingers don’t do anything to prevent his movements in any way. But Dean doesn’t get careless.

Knowing the brains behind Gated Discordia’s main—Division Core—he knows these chains have some wicked mechanism about it. He doesn’t remove time bomb in the menu.

He slides his fee down to the floor but he underestimated the power of his legs and the next thing he is keeling down. Dean’s forehead hits the edge of the bed and he is groaning. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he glares around with mouth dry. He doesn’t know which part of Division Core this is, but he is here, and Sam is here too. He remembers the extermination yesterday, remembers the dead members of his group dropping on the ground one by one as they get hunted.

Remembers Benny, was sure the man was dead and if he isn’t then, he will be wishing he is now that they are within the walls. Dean grinds his teeth. Determinedly extracting himself and shoving himself towards the open door where no guard nor Medical officers can be seen.

The corridor looks very intimidating with its long, endless hallway. It’s new to him, the construction of metallic corridors. Outside was just… all rubbles ready to collapse any minute. He thinks of the people he left behind, of the children, the mother, father, his friends left behind in the dangerous environment while just beyond their reach is wealth like this.

Just because they do not have any identity. They are the itinerants, considered with tainted blood after living for too long outside the radioactive ether with access only available after decontamination. Dean knows he has been decontaminated or they wouldn’t have kept him in the building. He knows from sources decontamination is dangerous and only a few lived the process. Poison is the cure.

He is alive now but the sickly children outside won’t make it if they are accepted in. Dean knows there is a safer way but the fuckers of Core Command won’t give them that.

That’s gotta stop.

Dean struggles on his legs, shoulder dragging along the wall. His bare legs are cold, the dark corridor like a stairway to hell but before he can make a turn, someone grabs his shoulder and slams him back at the wall.

Dean chokes, his breath hitching.

 _“You dirty scamper—!”_ hisses a voice and Dean gets dragged by the back of his neck after a kick on the stomach. He is shoved on a chair next, gets tied with a spotlight on his face. He hears voices, angry voices but he doesn’t care. It’s the expected torture he waits for.

They don’t hold back their punches.

“If you’re going to punch me, put your back to it.”

Not that he knows. He gets a full kick in the stomach that sends him spiraling to the floor. Dean grunts painfully. He curls on the floor, dizzy for a moment until he hears steps come closer. Then his hair is yanked backwards. He sees a tag. _Lucifer._

He finds himself staring at a pair of cold blue eyes.

A guy with a square face, blonde hair gives him a nasty smile.

“You’re still very confident even with all those drugs? That’s why you barbarians are not allowed in here. Our society does not belong to the mediocre humans with no ounce of making dignity in making themselves proper. All the ruffians must be thrown off the wall.”

“And yet, you’re the one acting like the brute between us,” Dean says with eyes glinting. “Who’s the animal now?”

Lucifer punches him in the gut again. Dean hears the metallic chair get kicked beneath him, but he swore he’d never give the guy the satisfaction of hearing him moan. He only does that when in the secured wall of his tent.

“I doubt your grandma lived long enough outside the walls, boy. Died, didn’t she? Just like the others?”

Dean managed to contain his anger but before he could speak, the door opens and a blonde woman with long hair enters the room with a violet vest. Just when Dean thinks these people only ever wear white clothes, here he sees another variation.

“There’s been a change of order from the Developers, Lucifer. This man has to take the Ring’s Test. He needs to be married off to the Skywalker.”

“What?” Lucifer looks incredibly disgruntled but Dean is surprised himself. From the outside, his men had spoken about this Ring system almost every day. About how the Developer Systemizes the citizen by IRD. Dean’s never had one before but if he does get one, does that mean he is allowed to live here now? Dean’s eyes light up with hope. Because they took Sam. And they’re the only one who can save Sam.

The last time he saw his brother, he was delirious from the poisons of the Swingers. Those nasty villainous monsters who hunt flesh and blood outside.

If they are willing to take care of Sam, he’ll do absolutely anything. Until Sam recovers. His brilliant brother will find a way to get them out of this situation. He’s sure of that. But first…

_“Where’s my brother!?”_

“Shut up, scum. Your bleeding brother’s been infected by the Swinger poison. He’s at the laboratory. Now, it’s the Order from the higher up. Bring him in. He needs to be IRD before he gets represented to Skywalker.”

“This trash? Needed? And why the Skywalker? He’s back from his tiny spaceship?”

“He’s the only one they deem capable.”

“Deem capable, my ass. That’s another sissy for you, what’s Raphael thinking? But no doubt, he’s one crazy dude. Yeah, should be a good show.” Lucifer huffs, but clamps a hand under Dean’s shoulder and heaves him up. Dean struggles to his feet, his stomach still hurting from the brutal attack, and then Lucifer dragging him outside the door. The gloating face didn’t make Dean feel easy at all. “Don’t be too confident yet, you’re just a useless _It._ You’ll get the four-silver-horse and then you’ll be a slave to one of my kind. I bet you’d love to live like one.”

Dean swallows hard. A slave?

This isn’t the Utopia he and his men were dreaming about.

* * *

“What do you mean I need to find my pair? You think my Ring would just respond to anyone?” Castiel is saying while zipping his white jacket before grabbing a softer suit and slipping his arms inside it.

“Cas, it’s been ten years, come on,” Gabriel says, his hologram standing by the door with his arms crossed on his chest, frowning at his younger brother pulling on a blue scarf he wraps under his collar. Gabriel dons the dress of a scientist, one of the Developers. “You need to find someone you’ll want to go back to every time you go jump in your spaceship. You know, someone good enough you think will be worth the stay. You can’t always keep your head in the galaxy, brother.”

Castiel wrinkles his nose. “No one is more beautiful than the galaxy, Gabe.”

“Yes, that kind of thinking will keep you celibate.”

“Gabe, you’re obviously unaware of how dangerous Division Core is right now. Earthsea is boiling, the seafloor volcano might be erupting now for all we know, and all you can be bothered with is me getting a partner?”

“I want you wedlocked before I die, is that bad?”

Castiel whirls to his brother with hands on his hips, eyebrow up.

“And if my partner happens to be one of the IT who breached the wall yesterday, is that fine with you?”

“Hey, who’re you talking to? I’d take anyone who’d take a space head geek like you anytime if it means that person can keep your feet on the solid ground, Cas.”

Castiel shakes his head as he fixes his cuffs and then rubs his golden ring clean.

“I don’t think anyone can influence me like that, Gabe.”

“Don’t count your rings before they outrun your life.”

“Ha.”

* * *

Dean Winchester slowly pushes the door of the men’s restroom to see if anyone’s looking after his ass. He sees Lucifer chatting with a bunch of other tall elites.

They want him clean for the Ring test and a Skywalker? But he got the rings... 

Bracing himself, he steps out when three more men walk outside and hide between them. He’s running out of the corridor before he sees one of those long tubes taking people down floors below.

Sneaking passed another group of people in varied colors of suits now, looking at him sideways and moving far away when they see him fiddling with the silver rings on his palms. Dean breathes and bows his head. It’s a good thing he was asked to change into some dumpy grey coveralls. He breathes heavily until they reach the ground floor, and then he’s dashing out of the weird tube, staring at the large hall.

Where are the fucking doors?

He wants to find Sam. He needs to give Sam these Silvers and let him study them. His brother had been the genius in the group, easily taking over the system. But they said Sam was also poisoned. No, Dean needs to give Sam the rings... No matter what, Sam has to be alive. 

The problem is, Dean doesn’t know where the exit is. Breathing heavily, he looks back at the tube, now empty. He runs to it, his fist hitting the closing door painfully—and that’s when the silver rings on his hands fell straight down the gaps between the steps and the floor onto the bottom of the dark tunnel.

Dean stares at his luck, then looks around. No one was paying him any attention. Gritting his teeth and knowing it could only be the things keeping him free in this society, Dean throws himself inside the tube and hits the lowest button because illiterate or not arrow down could only mean one thing.

* * *

“Hey, I thought you’re back home? Why do I spy alien rocks on the table again—aren’t you gonna give it a rest?” Gabriel asks as he follows Castiel wall by wall, the hologram freely following the Space Walker while Castiel inspects the fragments of meteors he brought back from outer space.

“I’ll get enough sleep later. You can imagine how I miss walking around without limitation.”

“Yeah? So, what about it? How long are you going to stay?”

“About two weeks. We need to go back to Regulus C. If the Earthsea is about to do the same thing as history depicted the blowing of the sun fifty years ago, we may need to evacuate this land immediately.”

“Uhuh… that sounds disastrous. When are you going to visit my bar?”

Castiel smiles. His brother has a way to prioritize things.

“You mean it’s still out there?” Castiel says in mock surprise.

“Haha, very funny. We miss you singing there, it’s been a while since someone tried to sabotage the whole bar’s reputation.”

“I’ll definitely visit. But you are working Underground the North Gates, are you going to leave me there on my own? Your little brother?”

“Oh, Cassie, you how could you forget one of our basic rules? Always drink with family, and who knows, you might find your Mr Right there. Okay?”

“Fine.”

There’s a sudden ringing of an alarm. Castiel whips around to Gabriel who’s looking at something Castiel can’t see.

“Gabe? What’s the matter?” he asks, stepping closer to the hologram.

Gabriel walks to a wall near him and pins some code, then grimaces.

“Oh, great.”

“What’s happening? You in trouble?” Castiel is beside the hologram in two steps, ogling at the monitor in front of his brother though nothing of interest is appearing. “Gabe?”

“There’s an intruder on my CM- Section. Dang it, and then Lucifer’s paging in the guy they caught last night has escaped from the Ring section. Just my pot of luck. Where else would these savages run to the moment they escape? Of course, the underground.”

“Gabe, stay where you are, I’m coming,” Castiel says, already running towards the door.

“Ah, sheesh, now you care about me?” Gabriel grins at the scowling younger brother, “Never mind that, the underground is like my home, Cas. I know it like the back of my hand. That dude’s not gonna last and before you know it, I’ll have him locked in one of those CM rooms where he’ll freeze with the other bodies of the dead. This underground Morgue is not going to be invaded right under my sharp nose.”

“Gabriel, I said wait for backup!” Castiel snaps but with a roll of his eyes, his stubborn older brother’s hologram waves dismissal and is gone. Castiel grits his teeth and races to the door with one thing in mind.

If this Resistor does anything to his brother, _he’s a dead guy._

* * *

Dean stumbles into one of the underground rooms and hisses when his toe knocks on a metal table once he barges in. The table didn’t even budge but that’s because of someone or _something_ on it and when Dean looks up, his body turns cold.

There’s a dead guy on the table.

Not just any dead guy but his whole team—his heart sinks— what about Sam? Benny?

Dean’s whole-body trembles as he walks to the body of the youngest. Garth didn’t deserve to die like that. He walks around the table, afraid that maybe he missed Sam. That’s when he sees a container of silver rings on the table, beside it a taser gun. Gritting his teeth, ready for revenge, he takes the gun—the same moment he hears a voice behind him.

Dean turns, gun pointed and sees a small guy with both hands inside the pocket of his white lab coat, staring at him with large round eyes.

This guy is one of them. This guy is one of those people who killed his friend. Biting his lips, he growls and points the gun at the man’s temple.

* * *

Castiel shouts over the radio telling the idiot Unit, led by Lucifer, to follow him on the Northern Tower Underground where Gabriel’s laboratory is found. He did not dare tell Lucifer ahead of time knowing that the maniac VOLTs officer might make matters worse. If this guy—this Resistor—has met Lucifer, then it’s only natural that he might just be holding a grudge.

Anyone who meets Lucifer has kept one, one way or another.

He dashes out of the elevator once he’s able to, into the green hue light corridor. He raises his own taser gun, hoping his big brother wasn’t that idiotic to deal with a dangerous man. He kicks the door open on Gabriel’s office, hisses when he finds it empty.

That’s when he hears a loud banging metal hitting the floor. Castiel’s heart sinks but his face clearly gets determined enough to finish this business once and for all.

What he finds in the morgue is his brother sitting on his ass by the floor, cradling a crying man on his chest and patting the IT’s back. Castiel blinks and steps closer. Gabriel looks up at him and shakes his head, his brown eyes full of warning. If it had been a different occasion, Castiel would have laughed at his brother for holding a man the way he does now. Gabriel is not a fan of all the touchy feels, nor is Castiel.

But the guy’s body is shaking, and if it’s even possible, crying. Taking another step closer, Castiel sees a taser on the floor near his brother’s left, then sees someone else. It clears Castiel’s mind. Gabriel had been in danger a second ago—he still is—and Castiel’s protective nature kicks in as he steps forward, grabs the IT by the collar—making Gabriel gape at him—but Castiel doesn’t care.

He pulls the guy off his brother and hurls him down on the floor with a loud thud, back of his head-banging – almost cracking the floor.

“Cas!” Gabriel shouts but Castiel will not forgive. He has to teach IT like this man to learn their lesson once they grab a gun and threaten life. He points his elbow on the man’s throat and points the gun in the middle of his forehead. The guy is obviously crying with both eyes tight shut.

“You scoundrel,” Castiel growls, watching as the eyelids are peeled open revealing a pool of bright green eyes begging to be killed.

“Benny…” he chokes, reaching up blindly, wrapping his shaking, bleeding hand on Castiel’s wrist. “P-please… he needs help…” he coughs and closes his eyes, leaving Castiel staring at his red shining face, dirty cheeks, and painful expression.

“The guy over there,” Gabriel says from behind Castiel.

The Sky Walker looks at the table at the far end of the room before sighing. He looks over his shoulder to his brother. “Are you okay?”

“You’re asking me?” Gabriel sounds clearly cold as he nods, “You’re the one straddling a poor living fellow on the floor with a gun in your hand. He didn’t hurt me. Barely even made two steps before he’s down. Poor guy. His whole team must’ve been ambushed by VOLTs last night. Can you get off him?”

Castiel nods quietly and is about to heave himself up when the IT’s hand clasping his wrist slides down to his fingers—and then two things register to the brothers when the alarm sets off and Castiel’s golden ring with its cryptic hidden letter suddenly ignites and a voice announces—

_Match has been found. Match has been found._

Castiel slowly looks down at the fingers on top of his ring and sees the IT wearing two rings on his index and ring finger. Silver ones. Gabriel is crouching behind him with large eyes. The IT has fallen unconscious now the brothers both stare at the IT and then at his silver rings before they look at each other.

“Oh, Cas.” Gabriel exhales furiously. “I told you don’t kid around black boxes like the Rings. Your mate is not just any IT. It’s a Resistor. Holy fucking fuck, it's Dean Winchester! _They paired you up with him... shit.”_

* * *

Castiel frowns both at Gabriel and Lucifer who’s having a mock staring contest, his brother appearing to be inches taller as they find themselves inside the Head office of one of the Four Kings, Lucifer who's gazing at the Novak brothers with lazy eyes.

Castiel’s approach in the matter is dead calm. His brother, however, is raising hell.

“You’re not making that psycho be my brother’s husband! No way! He ain’t one of your lapdogs!”

Lucifer gives Gabriel a calculating look, a finger on his lips.

“Are you saying we ignore the rings, Doctor?” he asks icily. Gabriel stiffens. They all know the meaning of going against the standard. Disobedience is against the King’s code— Gated Discordia’s rule book written by the Founders, the family of the Four Kings, Lucifer one of them. Being the Head of the inconspicuous Medical Research won’t save Gabriel. Castiel eventually has to step forward and place a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“It’s okay, Gabe.”

The angry Head of Medical Research glares back. “I can pull something, Cas—you just came back from a mission outer space and now you’re gonna take home a douchebag? Tie the rings even!?”

Castiel doesn’t answer. He remembers the guy with the green eyes and it struck him how the view, even after seeing the galaxies, the world, could strike so close to home. He was out there looking for a place to survive while down here, the people he was trying to help are all dying.

“It’s alright.” He looks at Lucifer who points a hand at him while his pale blue eyes are on Gabriel.

“See? He’s fine with it. Nothing to contest about. Besides, I really think you’re the guy for the job, Castiel. Someone with military training and high rank in the field should get to handle the hunter.”

Castiel doesn’t like the look of full delight and menace behind Lucifer’s eyes. Oh, he understands immediately how the guy wants him dead from a rebel no less. What an asshole.

Gabriel gasps so loud, Castiel snaps his head in his brother’s direction.

“He is the _hunter?! Are you fucking kidding me!?”_

Castiel is lost for words, not knowing what’s happening. He has been made aware of the word ‘Hunter’ as a moniker to the worst leader of the Resistors.

But he remembers the green galaxy stuck behind the fiery dark pupils with fire. It’s alive, much alive, unlike the endless space. Castiel feels a stir in him he can’t explain. He knows for a fact this was not a choice, he also knows he can refuse, making his next trip an excuse and they would let him. He has ranked high enough to request, he is just not sure if anyone has ever disobeyed the rings. He was about to find out if he refuses flatly. But he remembers the eyes. The same man he’s been watching over from afar. The man he would comment on for being both stupid and brave every time they launch a counter-attack with the paramilitary.

Something about this charge makes Castiel forget about the next trip on space, making a mental note to cancel them the first chance he’s got. It’s the first impulsive decision he has done. He thinks of it very carefully, then ends up in the dead zone of _not a choice._ Heart racing, a decision at the tip of his tongue, he nods.

“I think I can handle him.”

Saying so, Castiel still has doubts when he was called by his superior over the arrangement. Gabriel was still pissed and he let everyone know that before returning to his work. Castiel makes a mental note to check on his brother later. Despite being supportive and caring, Gabriel has one quirk and that’s his temper. They don’t talk much about Dean Winchester except Gabriel promises he will research the rebel thoroughly, what makes him tick, what makes him weak, but Castiel can make a wild guess based on the man’s initial impression.

No villain sheds tears like that.

The tip of his finger on the edge of the tablet he’s been reading on, Castiel lifts his chin up to Commissioner Balthazar, who motions for him to stand. This is after waiting for a full hour inside a familiar white-roomed wall with nothing except the glass table, after being notified through the Circuit of the commissioner’s wishing to see him.

He stands up, smoothing his palms over the crinkle of his white vest shirt and tapping his finger flat on the glass button. Everything he’s reading on the table disappeared.

“Reading Division news?” Balthazar asks, sounding amused as Castiel walks to him. Both VOLTs Officer and previous mentor and student, Castiel shakes his head with the corner of his lips quirking.

“No. I’m reading Globe 20’s history.”

“Of when the Apes were alive? C’mon, Castiel. I told you to stop reading fictitious material. It does your faculties nothing good bothering the archive like that.”

Castiel deadpans, “I have been assigned to something I have no expertise over.” He admits.

Balthazar’s eyes twinkled. “The first time I see you hesitate, Castiel… But then I suppose… getting carted off to the mercy of the rings would have that effect.”

Castiel only looks back thoughtful. It’s all coming back to him like it’s a challenging task. He realizes it is. His features harden. Balthazar has a way to make him feel that.

“I have no intention of doing less of what’s expected of me when I have been paired.”

“Cas, I didn’t say you won’t do better than any assholes we know. It’s just that you fit the man’s profile, that’s why you’ve been chosen?

“You think I’m a rebel?” Castiel tilts his head.

Balthazar smiles. “I can explain it to you but you won’t like it. The system pairs subject according to abilities and you know it. If you ask me, getting paired with a strong rebel like that? Not just a challenge. That’s a medal right there, SKYWALKER.”

Castiel stands straight. He knows they are going to official business soon once he hears his code.

“Most officers would gladly take him off your hands, SKYWALKER. Leader of rebellion? A record like that? That’s how most officers would see it? Then again… you’re not like most officers, I forget.” Balthazar shakes his head, amusement in his eyes disappearing. “He’s lethal, Castiel. We expect more from you.”

“He’s escaped the watch of the assigned officers the moment he opens his eyes.”

“Oh, that’s why they’re making it difficult for him now.”

Castiel pauses. He knows that too and there’s nothing he can do about that. Much to his surprise, Balthazar inclines his head to the door on the opposite end. The Skywalker follows him quietly knowing well they are heading.

They step on a hovering glass sphere controlled by the Commissioner and zoomed along the white corridor, barely meeting anyone else. Balthazar glances in his direction and the look in his face doesn’t hide the excitement.

“Core Command knows I applied for another space forage. Why are they suddenly dumping me with a Resistor? There are many other capable—"

“Castiel, if you don’t think you are one of the best out there, you’re deluding yourself.”

Castiel sighs. He wants to rebuke the Commissioner, but then Balth is a rank higher. There is three hierarchy as far as he can tell— The Core Command, Capacitors like himself and Commissioner like Balthazar, acting as the hands and legs from the top, supervising the special assignments for VOLTs.

“Where are Winchester and his brother?”

“Oh? Not even under the same roof and you know already?”

“Details?” Castiel presses on.

“The other Winchester is in the lab, poisoned. The medical team is curing him as we speak. You can ask Gabriel if you like. And Dean Winchester after his feat has been more than subdued, that’s all I can tell you.”

Castiel glances at his companion with a frown but Balthazar doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Why did you call me here?”

Balthazar blinks like he is surprised Castiel asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s your stag party.”

Castiel grimaces. “I do not like crowded places, Balthazar… I haven’t gotten used to… a large number of people.”’

“Don’t worry, there’ll only be four people waiting for us. It’s a stag like you never know.”

“Oh, I know," Castiel echoes after the Balthazar, brows furrow. “Isn’t that…?”

“Oh, yes…We’re gonna teach you how to use the rings courtesy of the other WEDLOCKED military persons. Don’t worry, they don’t mind. And they like it.”

Castiel carefully looks Balthazar in the eyes. The last thing he needs is to see a group of married VOLTS members dragging along their partner for torture.

“Balthazar, you don’t have to—

“Oh, you don’t have to be shy. We know you’re rusty, Skywalker. You can thank me later.”

“No, really. I don’t want to bother anyone—” Castiel doesn’t know if he wants to leave Balthazar or run after him to steer him in another direction. One thing for certain, whichever room they end up to, whatever he finds there, he will not appreciate it.

“Oh, but they’re already here.” Balthazar ushers him inside the familiar quarters for head officers where he finds two familiar faces greet him—Dick Roman and Abaddon with their respective husbands all seated in a circular white couch drinking whiskey. The air is a little tight when their eyes fall on him. One thing about VOLTs

“Look who’s here,” Abaddon says feigning interest with her right hand resting on the leg of her husband. “A star fell from the sky.”

Castiel eyes her coolly.

“Novak,” Roman’s eyes gleam behind cold eyes. His husband is seated across him—both former rebels are wearing the standard uniform of tight whites and black lacings except the locked rings. Castiel greets them cordially and sits on the empty space opposite the partners while Balthazar picks up the host’s job and begins trying to goad the grim-looking officers into a warm conversation. Like requesting amphibians to sing.

Balthazar quickly comes to a point of asking about the rings. Abaddon is the first to relish how to establish dominance. Castiel doesn’t listen. He doesn’t want to. His eyes fall on the rebels who looked like they can never harm a fly as opposed to their remarkable skills portrayed on the images Castiel had seen. He knows their faces from the news bulletin. Abaddon’s husband, Cain looks remarkably composed while Harrington, Roman’s partner, barely moves from his seat.

Fifteen minutes later, Balthazar asks how to keep the ‘low-lives’ in their places.

“Oh, it’s easy. You just do this.” Roman responds, lightly pressing on his silver ring and his husband gasps and faceplants on the floor with rasping breathe and heaving chest. Castiel sits straighter. Roman grins at him. “90 volts straight in their body and if you do this—”

He presses something longer and the ring flashes red.

Harrington’s whole-body shudders for full ten seconds and no one cares. Castiel maintains his seat because this isn’t the worse, he’d seen VOLTs do. He just couldn’t believe how the rings are accurate in inflicting pain. He sees blood oozing from the man’s lips and ears and Castiel is tempted to shout in order to put a stop to the unnecessary torture. Except—King’s Rule of the rings, you don’t interfere.

Cain didn’t have it any better and he's seen the worst the rings can do before Castiel is allowed to leave the premises in disgusts.


	3. The ALTAR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unite the rings with blood.

The space is too big and it’s suffocating.

He’s been awake for some time but he refused to open his eyes. He isn’t in the mood. After the freak show he’d seen yesterday, the first taste after ten years, sleep was hardly a choice.

If it was the previous him from years ago, he would take it all like a sport. He will be upon his feet, working out before the timed scenic wall changes to its modified setting of the sky. He would be drinking his coffee before any alarm while waiting for the pictographic sunrise to blind his eyes. At least, that’s how he wanted his first day back home to happen.

But today is different. Today he feels heavy, uncoordinated, and out of his body. His limbs are sore like he lifted his whole spaceship. Is it gravity that keeps him lying on the couch like a titanium pole? He is sure it’s not an adverse effect of just returning to this piece of land. Microgravity may have changed some polarity on his body since returning, but Castiel is a physically fit person, _always has been,_ with and no day in space wasted without exercising.

So, what was keeping him awake for six hours just staring at the scenic galaxy ceiling? What is incessantly nudging at the back of his mind that made peace and rest impossible—two things he’d never experienced his whole life?

_Today._

Castiel’s heart drops and his body jolts involuntarily as the information pokes him back. He never really forgot. How could he?

 _Today_ is the day he will be having _Dean Winchester_ as his legal husband.

Castiel sighs and remains lying on the couch to revel in his last day of solitude. He presses his left arm over his eyes, tired and exhausted. Was it really only 165 hours ago when he was just on space afloat in his little shuttle, out of reach of problems of the mundane world? Now he’s punished to remain planted on earth with a rebel to discipline.

_Discipline._

Castiel knows himself well enough when it comes to training soldiers. He knows his reputation among the new recruits fifteen years ago. Smart enough to know to deal with a rebel—this particular rebel—will need more than the textbook guide. He lets minutes roll with a low hum grumbling on his throat. He doesn’t move from the couch, legs extended, and crossed. Of course, he can’t go against this, but he doesn’t have to be agreeable. He spent the entire week reading the newest profile of the man given by the Capacitors as a result of Winchester’s week detainment. The few details added to what Castiel already knew told him much of the rebel’s refusal to cooperate.

They couldn’t crack him in that one week and that certainly gets Castiel’s attention.

Dean Winchester is in their hands—Volts are already known for their prejudice against rebels, relentless in hunting down those that continue to threaten the Division Core. They terminate anyone that does not have any identifications—and Castiel has to say if rigid persons like Zacharia—the Chief leader of VOLTS and Raphael, one of the Four Kings handling paramilitary concerns, can’t do anything about him then of all the rising rebels out there, this one is rightfully _problematic._

But Dean Winchester, is not really unknown to Castiel. Being in space doesn’t cut him off from the information happening in his land, not with Gabriel as his brother. He has read about the dissident, he’d remember seeing his black and white photos and recorders capturing Dean Winchester battling Volts many times last year, but nothing could have prepared him for the real thing. It was interesting at first, having so much time on his hands when he’s not working, he spent days trying to understand the rebels only to be captivated by one name.

Rough on the edges with his smug look and Dean Winchester is glaringly the face of _resistance._ The defiance in all his actions, his will to never give in. Incredible spirit Castiel hadn’t seen in years. And his name sounds so impressive he can let it roll again and again on his lips.

_Dean Winchester._

_Dean._ The name that kept him reading articles at night like Dean Winchester is some unsung hero. Castiel is beyond thrilled, but at the same time, afraid that his expectations may not be that accurate. Dean is a stranger to him as the next Galaxy beyond where he is currently in.

He will have a _Dean, the famous Southern rebel._

He will make Dean obey. He closes his half-lidded eyes and inhales. It has been a long time since he felt in control—the need to control. The space laying itself in front of him has removed that. Has stretched and given him a different perspective. That’s why he doubts… _he’s never the same…_

His pod-home phone rings. Castiel sits up after the second ring and taps the pod. Gabriel’s voice booms from the other side.

_“Hey, handsome, how’s the suit coming?”_

Castiel scrapes his face with both palms gingerly. “You’re too loud.”

_“Oh, boy. Go have your coffee. I don’t want the awakened dreary beast talking to me.”_

“Shut up.”

_“Better get rid of that face—you’re gonna scare off your future husband!”_

The Skywalker rumples his hair which was already messy, to begin with. “I believe you told me yesterday that you’re going to arrange everything?”

_“Oh, did I! Don’t worry about it lil bro, you told me you didn’t want anything big so I followed your taste to the last letter. Figured the least I can give you is a hug and funeral arrangement.”_

Castiel grimaces. Gabriel is one of those people who can really rub rock salt on burning wounds. Good thing he’s fond of his brother. “So, what do you think of him?”

There’s a short pause. Castiel thinks he hears the sound of beeping machines. He checks the watch on the wall 06:45. Gabriel must be in his lab—or did he even go home?

Except, the lab is his brother’s home.

 _“Dean Winchester?”_ Castiel notes the fall of his voice _“He’s very good looking, I’ll give you that. If they didn’t want him to be the face of publicity to dissuade the rebels from forming, I can tell you that guy will rank high in the slave trade. Gotta tell you, you didn’t fare badly.”_

Castiel grumbles. He did notice the man was pretty handsome despite all the cuts and bruises on his body. The strong jaw and hardened expression do give him the atmosphere of leadership and power. But what keeps Castiel shuddering every time he remembers are those emerald eyes that connected to him more than he’ll admit. Those green hues alone that were robbed him of his breath because they remind him strongly of space—of the emerald galaxy.

_The glowing incandescent gas and dust beyond murky clouds, radiating in infrared colors creating an illusion of a ring beyond what eyes can see. And it’s beautiful to behold._

Castiel closes his eyes and swallows hard. Dean Winchester is someone he needs to be careful around, that is for sure. He with the perfect name and beautiful eyes—

Castiel clenches his jaw. “I’m in trouble.”

 _“What’s that?”_ comes his brother’s sharp voice, _“You’re in trouble? What’s going on?”_

“I was… talking to myself.”

_“Hmmm.” that doesn’t look like a good pep talk if you ask me. Did you worry about Winchester shitting with you? Well, Cas— then you're gonna give him a good lesson, right?”_

Castiel chuckles lightly but the frown on his face never disappears. Members of VOLTS are not unversed to means of making their subjects _submit_. Gabriel snorts. _“If he can outsmart you then we are in trouble. Winchester doesn’t strike me as smart. He’s like the typical guy with a pretty face and brain in his dicks. Speaking of dicks—"_

“We’re not gonna talk about my sex life, Gabe.”

_“Oh, I don’t exactly wanna delve on details, but I know you can handle yourself. No—I was talking about Dick Roman, you heard what happened to him and his wife? Cain someone? West rebel shoot-n-kill-Cain?”_

“What happened?”

“Dick Roman fried him.”

Castiel stares hard at the pod.

_Really, Cas if that guy is as deadly as they say he is, don’t hesitate to use ‘it’.”_

_“Castiel. I know you.”_ Gabriel’s voice sounded grim. Castiel exhales quietly, right hand rubbing the back of his neck. _“You can’t take pity on the guy if he starts hurting you. Put him in his place—that's a face planted on the floor.”_

There’s silence as the sunrises from the scenic walls, giving Castiel’s blue eyes a dangerous glint while leaning on his knees, hands tightly clasped.

“I know.”

 _“You gonna be okay? I will meet you at_ Monopole _. VOLTS are gonna escort your new husband there. You ready?”_

“No.”

For one, he hates the crowd.

* * *

Monopole is located at the central district of Division Core a kilometer away from the Core Command where the top Capacitors and the high ranked Core Commanders are housed. Monopole is a singular white tower with crown-like satellite pads at the very top. Castiel parks his car in the underground and meets Gabriel who is waiting for him near the entrance with a solemn face. That's when it hits Castiel how serious the situation he now faces. They walk in silence with eyes darting their way but no one dared approach. Division Core's latest news contains Castiel's name, but secluded in his own world, he hardly gives a damn these days.

The walls protect them from outsiders. It doesn't protect them from the system that chains their will.

He grimaces again when he sees Gabriel waving at the circular desk where he greets a beautiful female acquaintance wearing the same medical coat Gabriel usually dons. Right now Gabriel is wearing the traditional white uniform for the occasion.

“Hey, Pam, have you met my baby bro?"

Pam turns to Castiel and her eyes rounded in surprise. “Oh, the famous Novak?”

“I thought we both agreed that was me?” Gabriel groaned lighthearted, earning him a chuckle from the dark-haired lady. “Cas, this is Pam, Research manager of Monopole.”

Castiel eyes her from head to foot without blinking and gives her a polite look. “Hello.”

Pam smiles quite meaningfully. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Had I known Gabriel had a handsome brother like you on the get-go, I would have tried my luck and peeped at you before you could even find your match.”

“The Wedlock’s don’t work like that anymore.” Castiel says, invariably with a poker face. “but thank you. You seem… like someone wonderful... I like your eyes too."

Pam blushes while Gabe smirks and shakes his head. "Always the man, eh Cassie? Just before your marriage too."

“You’re the one who’s going to get married to the Winchester guy? I was just with him an hour ago in the prep room and boy, isn’t he gorgeous like you.”

“Yeah, did you beat him?”

“No one beats up decent people out of nothing, charm boy.”

“Oh?” Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “I feel like you like him?”

“Hard not to with a charming guy like that,” Pam says easily.

Gabriel’s face turns grim. “Pam, that’s dangerous.”

She rolls her eyes, “Where's the fun in this system? Anyway, he actually tried to flirt with me and I tell you, face like that? Can get anyone he likes without as much as a wink. He’s…. he’s something. I was almost sorry to see him get locked to someone, but I guess you both have something in common.”

“I doubt it very much. And the Rings do not respond to physical appearance, but more of the chemistry and genetic coding of both artificial rings and the body chemistry,” Castiel squints at her.

“Oh, but I think you have what it takes to make him follow. But I’m going to tell you this— _you don’t turn your back on a man like that.”_

Castiel only gives her a stare. It’s something to know that Dean Winchester is dangerous. It’s another to hear it from another person.

“I will see about that.”

“Cas can take care of himself, Pam.” Gabriel says, “We better get going or he’ll be late and before we know it, Lucifer will be on our asses again.”

“Don’t speak of devils in my place, charm boy.”

They watched her go and the two promptly get in the Swifter Capsule—a cylindrical metal pod with a scenic underwater view of what was once a deep blue ocean of the past. Castiel stays silent with hands on his sides, deep in thoughts while his brother hums beside him. Gabriel would throw him occasional looks which Castiel returns silently. Finally, when the capsule reached the 10th floor and the sliding doors open, does his brother speak.

“He’s gushing about your husband.”

“He’s not yet my husband, Gabe.”

“But it’s ridiculous. The guy must be decent if Pamela is smitten— and no guy easily gets her attention like that.” When Castiel doesn’t respond, Gabriel presses on, “I know it’s your first time, Cas.” Says his brother seriously that snaps Castiel from his quiet stupor. “But you know in the ALTAR—”

“It’s not like you have gotten Locked yourself.” Cas muses, eyeing his older brother who glares at him and it's rare when that happens. _Gabriel never glares at him._ It must be his brother’s nerves hiking up for some reason and this gets the Skywalker sighing. “Okay. I know you’re one of the maintainers of the room now—"

“I don’t want to talk about an old dandy matchmaker—it’s your husband. He has not been cooperating at all in the last seven days.”

“I suspect it has to do with being him as Dean Winchester.”

“Are you defending him already, Cassie?”

Castiel doesn’t bother looking at the other rigid people walking with purpose around them. “What do you want to tell me that you couldn’t have done this morning?”

“Fine, have it your way—I just want you to prepare for what's coming next. Dean Winchester’s name has already made it to the triads.”

“Why are you just telling me this now?”

“Because I thought you’d ask! Then, of course, I kicked myself hard coz you never do, I should have known you never ask for help even on the verge of breaking your neck. So, it’s me now telling you what to expect up there. I can only accompany you till the Gate 5C then I will have to wait on the other side.”

“I never thought it to be easy.”

“Cas, I’m just worried, okay? You haven’t been in the loop lately, and you never reply to the logs I sent your way.”

“I do circular reading daily on space, Gabe. I assure you I have ample knowledge of the subject. I also know what it can do.” Castiel says grimly, “But why are you worried about me? I already know a lot about Dean Winchester.”

“Sure. I mean, it’s not like the Capacitors in charge of him haven’t seen it. And I know you like acting tough, Cassie. But… the guy’s a top leader of troublemakers. “But you don’t have any idea how bad things will be— I mean, given the circumstances, especially now…”

The slight quiver in Gabriel’s voice didn’t come unnoticed to Castiel, that he turned sideways to his brother, the same deadpan face but his eyes shining curiously.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Mmm…” Gabriel sounded undecided for a while which made it more concerning. “Okay. There’s actually someone who wants this marriage to be stopped.”

“Who?” Castiel frowns slightly.

“That cracked pot Azazel.”

Castiel makes a full stop. The chill he feels is nothing to the cold atmosphere of the space. Azazel is a mad Capacitor whose reputation of systematic torture precedes him. And it also happened that he is one of the Triad—the Highest Order in the system of Division Core. The way Gabriel grimaces at him must reflect his own expression because they both fall silent, walking side by side in the white corridor leading to Gate C5 where ceremonies and other regular events involving unliked rings gather.

“But he won’t.”

“He won’t.” Gabriel confirms, “The Ring still rules.”

“I believe that’s all we need to be concerned about.”

“If only.”

“Please, enlighten me more,” Cas says grumpily.

“Look, I don’t want to give you the groom jitters, but Azazel is at the top of all the chains and you know that. He has control over the ropes directly linked to Core Command and when the guy decided to experiment on the non-ring holders—the Horsemen holders, he chose a subject from the arrested trespassers. This is without any approval from the Triad Office.”

“That I know. What I do not understand is why he would want this to be stopped?”

“Dean Winchester—they said from what I hear—is the punk who got Azazel’s right eye.”

Castiel falls silent.

Now that’s a big deal. To have someone like Azazel on your back. This rebel’s life will be in jeopardy if Azazel gets his hands on him. Funny enough, Castiel did not expect the concern to bleed out, not from him of all people.

“What are you going to do about it?” Gabriel wanted to know.

“I have no further instructions to abort the mission. And if I delay, not only will I be questioned for not following the Rings, but the entire city will see me as a dissident.”

“Reason why Azazel is not here.”

They cease the conversation when they see the first doorway where an unknown guard is standing. He greets Castiel and Gabriel mechanically before swiping his ring on the scanner. The door opens, leading them to another empty corridor but whatever it was they were talking about completely disappears like bubbles in Castiel’s head when they reach Gate C5.

It’s nothing special but a sliding door going to the next guarded by another Capacitor 1.

“-Walker SKYWALKER, sir.” Greets the personnel Castiel remembers as—

“Inias.” Inias briefly salutes him before offering Gabriel the left door.

“I’ll go see you on the other side.” Gabriel places a hand on Castiel’s right shoulder and squeezes supportively. Castiel nods. He gives his full attention to Inias who’s already checking his board list.

“Are you not going to use your ring for security purposes?” he asks and there’s a crisp tone in his voice that commands attention.

“I am so sorry, Skywalker but… the scanner’s been compromised.” He nods gloomily over the scanner where the monitor is broken and, to Castiel’s surprise, with visible dents on its side.

“What happened?”

“Um…it’s the guy they brought in. I guess you will be meeting him at the ALTAR. Not to mean anything, but I’m glad you’re the one who’s going to be in charge of him. He is a madman. Just go directly to your left sir, IT1068 is already waiting for you.”

Castiel stares at Inias for a moment, his eyes sliding to the broken pane before he nods and goes along the empty passageway until he sees the entrance at the end of the corridor.

Dean Winchester broke a scanner. With his fist the way the dent looks. Somehow, this is becoming less than what Castiel expected. So, he may be a handful, but nothing Castiel can’t handle. And if he is as violent, then Castiel can’t really hold back, can he?

There are many things he is thinking right now, but mostly it’s to find his new capsule mate.

He gets in quietly—what he finds takes his breath away.

The circular room is illuminated by luminous blue light glowing in the eternal darkness. A circular unit enveloped in a luminous hue beneath the static floor. And it’s empty or at least—like a huge empty universe with only darkness and blinking blue stars—except he finally notices the two chairs placed at the far end in front of a bright silver altar.

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Castiel holds his breath. Already seated on his chair is the form of his future husband, the altar with his head bowed on his chin. Castiel can see that he is wearing the same white suit as him—a white satin suit with its black lapel and black buttons. The tiny black cuffs and black necktie takes up too much similarity on the embodiment of their daily uniform. It’s a custom form of uniform for special occasions. Everyone wears it during Division Core Day which is in a month. Castiel was looking forward to it, but with his hands full… he wonders what will happen to him in a month.

He stays standing still, looking around for any signal of what to do next, but when nothing comes, he walks quietly towards the man linked to his chair. He stops on the vacant seat, but when he sees blood on the man’s collar, desiccating the pure white, he stops.

That’s when his eyes reach up to have a good look at IT1068’s face. Castiel stops.

Dean’s face is clean, but it’s gaunt and undernourished. There are obvious cuts on his cheek, his lips are still swollen from an obvious fight not minutes ago. On his neck there is a binding black ring, two more on each wrist and on, in Castiel’s full knowledge, is on his groin.

This is what stops Castiel. Not many rebels are subjected to this kind of category—a threat level enough even when they have found their partner— _The Four Horsemen’s Rings._

Castiel stares at him—this guy—for the Capacitors to put him on Level 4 threat is unclear. Then Castiel recalls someone—a name that sent chills down his spine.

_Did Azazel do this_

Rage fills the Skywalker for some reason. This was not—nobody told him they would put the Four Horsemen. What did they do to this man? What happened previously that made them decide without prior notice?

There’s a soft groan and the man’s eyes move. Castiel stiffens. Dean coughs a few more blood-drops running down his chin, and when he looks up, the emerald color is no less dull than the last time he saw it, but they are unfocused.

And he looked beautiful in white too.

“G-get this off…” he mutters breathlessly. Castiel looks straight to the middle of his pants. Pain fills the rebel’s voice, the same tortured sound he heard from the underground lab. He doesn’t know how else to help—the urgency to help is palpable. The contortion of suffering on the man’s face is heartbreaking, eyes of green wet like the green stars covered in the miasma.

But the man begins to fight off some invisible captors, his throat a bubble of growl.

“It’s… it’s alright…” Castiel finds himself saying the name achingly familiar, stepping closer to Dean. He doesn’t know what else to do to comfort the man except to reach his right palm to Dean’s cheeks.

He feels the weight of the unshaven heavy jaw on the heel of his palm made to burn by the man’s grazing stubbles. The warmth of the skin so sickly pale in color with too much pain etched on the crinkling brows and wet corners of his eyes.

Castiel stares, unable to pull away. The man won’t open his eyes. This is the day of their promise rings, but Dean’s already _ringed—labeled as a threat—_ who did this without his knowledge?

To his shock, Dean suddenly presses his cheeks down, his warm lips grazing Castiel’s skin. He wants to pull away but Dean’s soft moan, his touched-starved expression embedded itself on his mind—something he is not soon to forget—

Then he opens his eyes and looks straight Castiel in the eyes, fiercely and much alive.

 _“Get this over with,”_ He growls, pulling his head away with distant hatred deep in his eyes.

Castiel stiffens. He can read the man’s body language and its shaking—not in fear—but from intense anger and abhorrence. He doesn’t know what happened to the rebel in the last week, but he can tell the man hasn’t learned _anything._ Castiel internally laughs at Lucifer’s incapable hands bringing him the package still whole.

He meets the eyes with equal intensity before reaching over Dean’s chin and carefully wiping the blood smearing the beautifully shaped lips.

“I think we can both agree it is not me who needs to submit,” Castiel says, voice deep and in control. He traces his thumb. “And if I say we are just about to begin, you better believe it.”

The tension on the man’s shoulder is visible under Castiel’s critical eyes. He can see Dean staring at him now with attention and focus, his brilliant eyes a pool of green nebula. It’s sparkling. It’s hot. He pulls his hands back and licks his thumb, enjoying the way the rebel’s pupils dilate. He ignores everything else when he finally takes his seat to proceed with the ceremony. The center chairs bask in a white glow, shifting blue rays, and the mist that lights their skin have this ethereal glow—like glinting porcelains.

Castiel takes Dean’s hand. The moment he does the ring burns.

The moment his ring hand touches that of Dean’s, the whole room light up as if a blue veiled curtain just came down from the ceiling, encircling them. Castiel looks down at his silver ring— he can almost feel the nanoribbons of graphene combusting—the flicker of energy to his body too consuming. He mechanically glances at the man beside him when the ring grows hot—his future husband who’s staring at him inexpressibly so—but Castiel stays quiet, until the ceremony. The ALTAR shines and from it—from there— all comes is light and the sounds of metal on metal closing.

_Locking._

Castiel steadies himself, his mind occupied by a single person in the middle of this galaxy. The same guy that could probably kill him in the morning so he doesn’t let himself fall. Instead, he stands straight, glares to the archway that must be the exit, gives Dean one look before heading out.

He finds Gabriel seated on the couch, waiting for him with his phone in his hand inside the white room.

“Hey, done already— Cassie?”

Castiel ignores him and heads straight for the panel by the exit door. He slams his hand on the panel to get the cameras in his direction. He knows they are watching this union. Of course, they are. _Dean Winchester_ is that important.

“Get me who’s in charge here.” He says severely. “Now.”

* * *

Gabriel taps his foot impatiently beside Castiel. Both brothers are leaning on the white wall in a similar mood, eyes transfixed at the monitor on the screen where Gabriel must have watched him and his husband locked rings. Castiel looks down his ring band. One of his silver rings has now turned ink black. A sign of _Wedlocked._

“And they said it’s easy to get locked these days, you finished in 10 minutes and now we’re waiting for the 20th because they’re too slow.” Gabriel sighs. “What happens there, Cas?”

“Patience,” Castiel says through gritted teeth.

“That’s not how you do it, idiot.” Gabriel rolls his eyes.

Another five minutes with Castiel just watching Dean sleep on the chair when the door opens and the familiar face of Mick Davies in uniform enters. His eyes fall on Gabriel first, then to Castiel.

“You called, Skywalker? What is the matter, I am sure by now your blushing husband—”

Castiel strides towards Mick who backs out the door but not quick enough to avoid the Skywalker. He did walk more than this piece of land put together. He knows the meaning of distance.

“Look here, Skywalker—” Mick begins a little intimidated.

“Who told you to put the Four horsemen on Dean Winchester?” Castiel doesn’t show mercy. Gabriel blinks at him in confusion.

“Your husband’s wearing the Four Horsemen? What the fuck—”

“I—I have no idea—there must be some mistake—”

Castiel grapples Mick’s collar with lips thinning. “Mistakes do not happen with the Four Horsemen involved. “I have received no notice from Core Command that he would be found in this state. I want answers. Who did this to Dean Winchester?”

“Look—I have no idea—"

“I suppose you want me to reel in someone you don't want me to mention?”

“W-what?”

“Cassie…” Gabriel begins to shake his head in warning because he knows Castiel is about to reveal the name. He will, he wants to and if he could meet with that man now...

Castiel’s eyes gleam and he is seconds away from ripping Mick from the wall when he sees someone move from the corner of his eyes. He turns and sees Dean Winchester, in his white suit, bloody collar and pale face, amble inside the room holding his abdomen with a glazed look in his eyes.

“Where’s Sam…” he begins groggily, the way his legs carry him certainly looking strange.

Castiel lets go of Mick and steps to his swaying husband.

“Hey.” He steels his eyes upon seeing the black ring still on the man’s neck. The rebel he sees running about with freedom on his shoulder now as a blackbird caged— Castiel can’t say what it would be like to live with Dean—but if they both want to survive; they have to work together. Dean Winchester sees him, drapes an arm around him and falls. Castiel is powerful enough to catch him but he is glad when Gabriel goes to Dean’s other side. The Skywalker gives Mick an icy stare.

“Give me the key.” He knows. Anyone out of the radius of the keys—especially the Four Horsemen—should be in close proximity. Otherwise the ring will explode.

Mick hesitates a moment, before ducking his head looking uncomfortable.

“It’s a generic Horsemen type A. It should come off once the subject in person is exposed to the Gamma of the ALTAR. You can remove it anytime.”

“I figured.” Castiel heaves Dean with Gabriel giving Mick a deadly look. “Get out of the way.”

* * *

_“They sedated him.”_

Castiel stiffens as Gabriel confirmed what he already suspected. Gabriel removes Dean’s bloodied white suit while Castiel helps with the shoes. Dean is laid on the same couch he was just using that morning. He did not expect things to escalate this way. He knew Dean was troubled, knew blood would be next. Not like this—not from someone _not him._

 _“It’s Azazel.”_ He says—a matter of fact.

“Yep.” Gabriel stands up, his hands full of clothes. “Tell you what, I’ll go put this in your laundry and you go remove uh… _his bindings_ out, that way he can sleep better and maybe not have a full head of murder in the morning.”

“You’re going to stay?” Castiel asks, following his brother with his eyes.

“You bet your ass I will. We just potentially transferred a murdering rebel in your room and you want to be alone with him?” Gabriel looks back at Castiel who is in the process of removing Dean’s boxer where he sees the ring binding the soft cock of his husband.

Gabriel snorts and turns away. “Or not. I’ll go after I dump this all. Forgot you just got married and the food’s cold, had it delivered. We gotta eat that.”

Castiel doesn’t answer anymore after easing everything off the man fast asleep on his couch. He sees the wounds, the scars, the purple bruises fresh and raw. He calls Gabriel back and once the medical lab doctor has seen it, he grimaces and goes on fixing Dean’s open wounds.

Once done, Castiel returns with the blanket he took from his room and dumps it all over the man so when Gabriel comes out, he looks decent enough.

“He’s really pulled some luck with the stars having the Rings match you two or he’d be deep on his knees, begging someone to kill him.”

Castiel doesn’t answer. He only looks up upon hearing his brother call his name.

“What?”

Gabriel gives him an ugly look and knocks his forehead. “You start payin’ attention to what I say or before you know it—that guy is gonna get you killed. Stop mooning over him.”

“I’m not.” Castiel scratches his head.

“Try and look yourself in the mirror, what is that called?”

“I’m not.” Castiel repeats much more firmly. “I would have thought you’d be inviting me to eat, Gabriel. It is, after all, my wedding night.”

‘It’s only 4 pm!” But he and his brother stay in the kitchen, talking about Castiel’s plans.

“You’re going to use it right? If something happens?” Gabriel asks when he steps out of the door, only to stop and look back to his brother.

“It is not recommendable to an already beaten body. You have seen what they’ve done. What I do not understand is the need to subject him to the Horsemen. Why put him through the ordeal if he’s bonded to me already. Do they expect me to hurt him further?”

“They must really hate him.” Gabriel muses.

“There could be one reason,” Gabriel suggests, drinking low, his eyes flickering to his brother. “You pissed off anyone in the Core Command lately?”

That leaves Castiel frowning. “I just returned.”

Gabriel bids him goodbye after accompanying him for two more hours until his shift comes in. Castiel locks the door and glances down to Dean, still asleep by the couch. He doesn’t dare awaken him, but he does touch the left ring on his right. This is the left ring that can react to a simple command. If Dean Winchester proves himself to be a difficult person, Castiel will likely be forced to use his last resort.

But what is he expecting out of this arrest? It’s common for Capacitors to monitor the heavily guarded inmates. That is why the system of the ring only takes the same chemistry from each Capacitor still available—and it so happens that he was chosen for Dean.

Or was he?

Gabriel always told him it _is_ the ring that matches numbers at the speed of light, some of their scientists believe in the Black box function of the rings. But it works and they have been doing it for more than 500 years.

Castiel leaves Dean and locks his bedroom door. One good thing about being in his own capsule is his DNA is the only one recognized by the entire artificial intelligence waiting for his command. So, he doesn’t worry for Dean getting out, doesn’t worry anyone will get Dean out. But mostly, he doesn’t have to worry about Dean getting in his room.

If Dean’s gonna murder him, it will never happen on his bed. He groans when his body sees the soft mattress that responds whether he wants it cool or warm. Except he needs to clean his body and dumping himself on the Glass Bathroom is the next step he needs to partake.

Trudging out of the room, he wills his body to go stop negotiating with his brain. The noise doesn't stop.


	4. Bouts and Brawls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the first night, the first fight

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

He wakes up with a jolt, feeling dry. He sits up in the and looks at the time clock on his wall. It’s only just past six again. Castiel gets up with a little headache. It takes him a moment to compose himself and when he does, he slips his legs on the bed and turns to the glass wall.

“Show me the living room” he growls, hair a mess. He didn’t know he was even capable of sleeping with his husband outside. Husband? He frowns and watches the image of the galaxy disperse to a mirror showing him the extension of the living room where he finds the couch empty.

Castiel touches the wall. “Kitchen.” Nothing. “Bathroom.” Two rooms empty. “Balcony?” Still empty.

His heart leaps. Dean is nowhere in sight and the blanket is crumpled on the chair. Hissing, he takes his brown bathrobe and tucks it close around the waste. He opens the door prepared for any attack but nothing comes. He crosses down the stairs to the living room, all his senses alert. The ceiling is still dark, with only the dim lamp providing him with a view of everything when he senses someone moving behind him.

He sighs and turns.

He sees green glowing eyes in the dark hiding in the shadows of the wall just beneath the stairs. Of course. The man knows there are nano cameras around, what else did Castiel expect?

But the standoff is intense. The way Dean Winchester is looking at him gives the Skywalker an impression that he is waiting for an experimental beast waiting for him to drop his guard. The intent to harm is ever-present in those green eyes and still, Castiel does not feel afraid.

“I do not recommend any hasty attack,” Castiel says slowly, aware of the man slowly approaching him. “You know your body—

Dean lounges at Castiel and it’s the only thing the Skywalker is waiting for— he ducks back to the counter, Dean’s wild hands following him but the familiarity of the room is to his advantage. He drags a chair towards the rebel’s direction, scrapping the smooth, tiled floor so loud before lifting it up. He hears the chair crack on the solid body of his husband. He sighs at the knowledge. There’s a moment where he sees Dean’s outline struggle, but in fairness to him, his reaction to pain doesn’t last. He is lounging in Castiel’s direction again like some rabid beast waiting to gut his prey. Castiel ducks from his arms, a left hand ready for the awaited punch and hits his target. He doesn’t hesitate—he gives Dean the rightful greeting of a guy who hasn’t had his coffee this early in the morning.

There’s a small groan of surprise—but he doesn’t stop there. He takes Dean’s flailing arms—preparing to throw him over his head only to prove something, Dean Winchester with his sturdy body is _in control of his jackass form._ He clasps Castiel’s shoulder tight and wrangles him around the neck after a quick twirl. Castiel doesn’t get winded, he doesn’t hold on Dean’s arms choking him, he uses both hands to clamp on either side of the man’s head, presses hard until Dean is yelping in pain. That’s when the Skywalker kicks him on the shin and jabs a straight hook on the man’s exposed jaw. It connects, sending Dean’s heavy body backwards.

There’s a crash. Dean knocks over the novelties on a cabinet table.

 _He’s still out of it_ , Castiel figures, taking advantage and crossing the distance between them again. He has to sidestep because Dean seems to want to meet him halfway—but Castiel trips him and the man smashes down the tiled floor. Craning his neck with loud sounds of tendons cracking, Castiel turns to give Dean one last hook. Except Dean is already charging at him, catching him around the waist and knocking him on the floor. Castiel doesn’t allow the upper hand for long. He pulls on his weight, uses the momentum to change their position until he is on top with palms grappling the rebel’s neck. Their eyes connect but fear never seems to be on Dean Winchester’s MO. Castiel raises the ring to his lips—then hesitates. The fraction of a second that Dean needs to maneuver his own body, twisting himself back until he gets behind Castiel whose legs get trapped from behind him. Then Dean wounds a hand at the back of his neck before dragging him towards the wall where he smashes his head.

Stars bursts in his eyesight, accompanied by a loud groan. He feels himself get manhandled up the wall while Dean crowds him in.

“You give me a good reason why I shouldn’t kill you now?” Dean hisses near Castiel’s jaw.

Castiel instinctively raises his left hand, willing it as close as possible to his lips but then freezes. Dean is looking at Castiel’s ring, then to his own hands. The way his eyes just dilate tells Castiel how much the man has just remembered they are—

“I’m your husband.” He says through gritted teeth, “and I can fry you by choice and without prejudice with one single word if you do not let go of me now.”

The green eyes flicker to him but it’s not the horror that is there. No, it’s the full understanding of what’s going to happen next—of powerful electrical energy enough to render anyone’s body immobile. They both know it.

Seconds pass, nothing happens.

Castiel headbutts Dean—he fucking headbutts the guy to just get him out of his space and the next thing he is smashing Dean flat on his back down to the floor before straddling his lower hips—doesn’t care if he is on his bathrobe almost falling off his bare shoulder, while practically straddling Dean with nothing but boxers pressing down the man’s bulge in the middle of his pants. He is not alone, that’s for sure.

Sweaty, as they both go and still breathless, Castiel tugs on the man’s right hand and twists his wrist. Dean gasps. Castiel’s sharp elbow points menacingly below his husband’s neck.

“Stop fighting me. I do not want to hurt you.”

There’s a bark-like laugh followed by coughing sounds. Castiel doesn’t ease away from the man, his eyes narrowing. But through the dimness, he sees the green eyes, only glows dangerously. It makes Castiel want to leap up and put some distance between them. Something about Dean Winchester’s aura makes him seem too menacing.

“You want me to fucking believe that?” says the deep voice coming out as a rumble from the ground. Castiel’s whole body shivers.

He stares up at Dean with his body feeling all sorts of pacing at the phenomenal green eyes, and deep voice. Dean’s pull on him is bad which only makes his head dizzy, his jaws clenching even more. He can’t help looking back at Dean looking so good in his clean clothes, face shaved, lips full. Castiel stops thinking about it, thinking about Dean.

The guy who seems more than happy to kill him.

“It is not a choice,” Castiel says shortly, raising a little and freezing.

He sees Dean’s eyes fall on his exposed shoulder where the bathrobe hangs loose. The green eyes greedily raked down his open neck, to his collar bones and the peeking bare chest—and then Dean swallows hard, his tongue unconsciously darting out. And Castiel is struck whether to continue the threats or just order the man to give him his lips.

He doesn’t. Instead, he stands up, making Dean blink up rapidly and to sit with ease, his eyes following the Skywalker. Castiel doesn’t step back despite the challenging stare knowing that if he did, it’s the same as submitting to the challenge, and it’s one thing Castiel never does. To submit to anyone. He gives him one piercing look, not moving, and just waiting.

“Could you not wait for daybreak before you start thinking of murdering me again? I need to have my coffee and… stop staring.” Castiel breaks the ice, finally turning his back, not caring enough if Dean will come after him. He’s got the feeling Dean won’t.

He’s right. He reaches the kitchen counter and prepares the coffee. He can hear Pamela’s advice not to turn his back on the man, but for some reason, he’s got a feeling he’s killed the instinct flat. How? Because he feels the same. It’s not calming per se, it’s the opposite, but he doesn’t act on it. Whether it pans out with him being correct or not, there’s only one way to find out.

He turns. The exact same time he sees Dean almost upon him again—but it’s not threats on his face that Castiel sees flashing—it’s awe and wonder because just then, the scenic walls begin to swipe to their automatic screens—and the sun rises up from a deserted horizon.

“What…” Dean’s voice has lost a level on its edge. Castiel watches Dean watch as the sun frees itself from the shackles of the shadows and fully fills up the blue sky. Dean gasps, his head spinning at the wall, taking steps away from Castiel and attempts to touch the wall. He doesn’t. Castiel finds himself watching Dean even more.

He doesn’t lower his guard, however. He can’t. He’s looking at Dean’s framework—solidly built with his auburn hair burning under the fake sunlight with shoulders tensed. The shape of his back is awfully tight on Castiel’s borrowed t-shirt.

Dean touches the wall finally but that’s when everything stops. White lights filled the entire vicinity and the scene fades into white solid wall. The man turns to Castiel who is holding the remote, not wanting to use his voice that may startle the creature he found in his territory.

“Sit down, Dean, and have coffee with me,” Castiel says, walking out from behind the counter after dropping the remote on the counter. He knows Dean is following him with his green eyes and it makes him a little nervous. Nervous?

Waving the thoughts away, he sits down on the couch Dean has just been sleeping on, puts the two mugs of coffee on the table they managed not to damage in that ridiculous exercise before Castiel bends down to pick the blanket and fold it on his lap.

When he looks up, Dean is already facing him on the other side of the table with growing suspicion and curiosity behind his eyes. Too wary, thinks Castiel, applauding the man a little bit knowing at the same time it’s him who needs to establish the relationship.

“Sit down.” He repeats with a sharp look over the rebel, who ironically does not rebel when he slinks down the floor. Castiel blinks at him but does not say anything. Naturally, he thinks the man would come and join him on the chair—the absence of familiarity between them strikes him as odd. It feels like he’s known Dean forever, felt like it was long ago when he was mulling about the number one aggressor of the North.

But his other brain tells him not to get carried away. He feels Dean watching him intensely. Castiel quietly went on his business, ignoring him first. When after what felt like five minutes passed, the man finally opens his mouth.

“This is fucking wrong,” Dean says, mostly to himself.

Castiel grits his teeth. He is not averse to cursing, but it feels personal when someone does it under your own home. He lets his eyes linger on the emerald eyes, lets Dean know that he has Cas’ attention. There’s not much to comment on how Dean looks the same from last night but at the same time different. His hair is still all over the place, face still a little gaunt, the dark lines under his eyes still clear under the light.

“I suppose you think I like it?” he arches his eyebrows.

Dean wrinkles his nose. “You… you were that guy last time…” he doesn’t continue and frankly Castiel doesn’t care. He thinks of Dean as the man who deserved his sympathy, but he never deserved to be treated like another douche for the man even when they are enemies living in the same space.

“You seem to be catching up slowly,” Castiel says quietly, eyes narrowing. He wants to know who that asshole is once and for all. “Anything else you’d like to know?

“They told me you’re going to be my husband.” Dean lifts green eyes looking uncertain.

“I am your husband.” Castiel corrects him. He sees his green nebula spark in panic.

“What? We—we’re already locked?” he looks down his ring looking crestfallen. Castiel once again ignores the painted pain on the man’s face. Exactly how many muscles is he making work when he makes those expressions? How can he make an already morose expression even more… _miserable?_

"Are you okay?" Castiel asks, in spite of himself. he can't help it when the man looks so lost.

But when Dean Winchester glares up and tells him to fuck off, Castiel pulls his heart and walks out of the room, but not after gracing Dean with his most brilliant arresting glare.

* * *

Castiel comes out of his room quietly, his eyes falling immediately to the man fast asleep on the sofa who has been the sole reason for his listless nights.

From where Dean lays, Castiel can see the silver ring glinting on his finger where the starry moonlight from the swirling galaxy pod of the wall enveloping the living room. Castiel learns by his door for a moment, arms crossed and just observing.

He let his eyes stare at the glinting ring quietly as he stands straight just outside the door of his room. Dean remains sleeping on the couch, refusing Castiel’s offer to take the study room which he planned to clean since last week, actually, just to accommodate Dean. But Dean won’t take it.

At first, Castiel thought the man would demand his bedroom since they are technically married, but no. Dean just sleeps on the couch, wakes up to admire the sunrise, joins Castiel in a very quiet breakfast, lunch and dinner where they go their separate ways, not talking. Castiel is not doing anything wrong.

Part of a paramilitary officer’s job is to keep an eye on their charge, make sure they don’t create any trouble and teach them to be obedient which leaves Castiel wondering if it entails forcing Dean to evacuate the living room and push him to use the spare room. He didn’t push the thought and Dean never actually cared much about it. Castiel has been watching him for days too in the comfort of his room. Watches Dean breaks down while standing inside his room and he can’t say that what he’s witnessed so far is worth punishable or even reportable to Core Command.

For one thing, being a rebel doesn’t seem to stop Dean Winchester from crying a lot. No, it’s not as much as weeping incessantly for anyone to see—it’s the opposite. Dean Winchester doesn’t look at him properly since their initial bout. Indeed, Castiel would not have noticed it, if he wasn’t observing the man too much. Dean doesn’t do it in his presence but the moment he knows Castiel is no longer in the room, it comes.

Castiel is left bewildered at first, he would not have believed it but when he flickers a finger to zoom the view on his wall into Dean’s face zooms in close up, he sees it. The way Dean’s eyes just glisten in the dark, reflecting the light from the automatic wall he seems to find comfort in. Dean wiping his tears in a frustrated gesture before he bows his head and endures in silence, shoulders shaking. Castiel had never seen any man, or anyone looks both so dangerous and fragile at the same time. Someone whose hands are painted in blood while he cradles the broken pieces of a man tired of fighting. Castiel sees it all in his eyes. An image of Dean Winchester he had never seen in the years of watching him from the radar of his ship.

Dean Winchester, the man he’d want to both point a blade at the throat and hold in his arms at the same time. What was worse was watching the man try to muffle the sound of his voice when he sobs in the dark, shoulders shaking in defeat. Castiel turns off his wall that night.

The next morning Dean faced Castiel as nothing happened. He grumbles something during breakfast after doing his run-through of looking Castiel sceptically from head to foot like a wild cat full of suspicion, waiting for something to drop.

Castiel would often ignore the challenge and they would fall in this silence with only the sound of their utensils. The red in the rim of his eyes are noticeable but Castiel doesn’t comment on it. He doesn’t have any idea what to do. What do you do when a rebel you know all your life shows a side of himself that you are alien too? And what was worse, the feeling of wanting to comfort Dean seizes his heart every time he looks up from his meal to the rebel who wouldn’t speak but with a bleeding bottom lip from the way he forced the silence of his voice at night.

A feat that slices Castiel’s heart the way Dean’s eyes are dark and soulless. He finds himself wanting to reach and shake the rebel. The way he holds himself, in pieces, and yet holding on. What is keeping this man together? Then he has to remind himself they are enemies, two different sides of a coin, both sharp edges of a blade that can cut even its master.

It’s the same the next day. Dean doesn’t speak to him except the casual greetings and thank-yous for the meal but apart from that, Dean acts like his ability to feel has been removed when Castiel is around. Yet Castiel is aware of the truth the moment he closes his door. Dean falling on his knees, Dean clutching on his stomach like he’s in so much pain no one is allowed to pry about. Like Dean just wants everything to stop. Castiel does what he can to ignore Dean after that, only hanging around the living room to leave pillows, jumpsuits, blankets, extra shirts and anything else Dean would need.

“If you need anything else, you can tell me,” Castiel says when he straightens up after unloading all of the items that he bought from Tower Land Mall and puts them all in front of Dean. “I mean, I know you want to stay here in the living room but if you change your mind, you can really use the study room. I can clean it in half a day, also—there’s a towel—”

“Why?” comes Dean’s gruff voice too hoarse Castel suddenly has the impression Dean’s voice can go so deep if he wills it.

Castiel doesn’t look at him. “Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?”

He looks up and sees the way Dean’s face hardens. Suspicion lies behind his eyes and something else. Something about to erupt.

“Because you need it,” Castiel says dismissively, looking down at the items again and tilting his head, “I don’t suppose you’ll be needing facial foam? They’re good for the skin—but umm—”

He finds Dean Winchester’s hand on his collar pulling him forward roughly, fist-clenching on his chest. To Castiel’s credit, he saw it coming but did not do anything to deflect it. He knew Dean exploding is long overdue. Also, it’s incredible how he forgot Dean is much taller than him. Dean is giving him a transfixed stare.

“Stop it,” He growls, incisors showing at the gap of his lips. Castiel can’t help the way he focuses on the grazes on Dean’s lips, red and raw. He needs to tell Dean to stop chewing his bottom lip before it loses its plush shape. He didn’t expect to pull away from Dean’s lips to be such a feat.

The green meets blue. He closes a hand on Dean’s wrist.

Castiel frowns. “Stop what?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Anger flares in Dean’s eyes. “This! Whatever this is!” he takes a step forward like one of those angry rhinos on the screen during the Neanderthal ages. “If you’re going to kill me, go do it! Stop giving me the royalty treatment, I am not going to be your slave!” his grip comes too tight.

“Let me go, Dean,” Castiel says trying to keep the jamming of his heart up his throat to cease. It wasn’t fear that hit him being this close to Dean. It’s… Dean. Therewith the fire in his eyes, that’s Dean Winchester with green eyes full of life, blinding Castiel. He hasn’t broken. “You’re not my slave, certainly I am no master of any kind.”

He makes sure to fully look Dean in the eyes.

“Please, let go.”

A second pass where they just stare deeply in each other’s eyes, a moment where Castiel shows Dean he doesn’t fear him but doesn’t intend to hurt him either.

Dean lets go. The magic word does its magic much to Castiel’s relief. He can’t afford a physical fight with Dean when the man looks so exhausted from lack of sleep. He knows Dean is more prone to being dangerous.

Castiel steps back, their eyes unlocking.

“You’re not my slave.” He says and hears Dean grunt. “I’m not going to do anything to you as long as you do not initiate it.”

“So, what are we going to do here, just trip around each other, holding hands, pretending to be happily married?”

“We don’t need to hold hands,” Castiel assures drily.

Somehow, Dean looks even more aggravated.

“You—You keep feeding me, give me stuff, is that all you want?”

“I just…” Castiel hesitates, trying to choose his words correctly and finding himself at loss. He tries not to show what he is feeling and never has he been glad for having such controlled muscles on his face. He deadpans. “Look, Dean, we’re in the same boat here. I’m not prepared at this any more than you are…I’m just…I just want peace, okay?”

“Don’t give me that crap,” Dean says in disgust. “We are not anything but trash put together! You want to make yourself feel great about that, then go! You have my brother and now you have me on this chain—I am your slave! So, when do I get to suck you?” Dean’s eyes are wild.

Castiel’s expression closes. He preferred Dean in silent agony after all. Dean Winchester using his mouth is excruciatingly hard to deal with. Terrible silence falls between them and he knows Dean feels it too the way his mouth shuts and looks back at him warily. Then Dean’s body instinctively steps back. Cas doesn’t blame him. He closes his eyes instead.

“It’s none of my business what you think I should do in this relationship. You are free to do as you see fit as long as you know your ring’s limitations. For both our sake.”

“Free? You have me wrapped in this chain you call that free?” Dean spits as he raises his hand to show his ring, “Oh, I know what you’re doing! You’re trying to lure me! Make me into one of your lapdogs that will kiss the ground you walk!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You think I wanted this—?”

“Stop acting like the fucking victim here!”

“Then tell me…” Castiel says icily that Dean flinches as he stares at him straight in the eyes, “What do you expect me to do if I’m the bad guy in your story?”

“You torture people! Because that’s what you fuckers do in this place! You drive them insane!”

“Am I not doing that already?” Castiel arches an eyebrow. He supposes Dean got the message so while the rebel’s whole attention is still with him, he says, “You should show me some respect. I am the only person keeping you away from the real torture you seem to be looking forward to and the people who would gladly give it to you. I can throw you back to them.”

Dean gapes at him. Castiel carefully puts the comb he was still clutching down to the table and takes his leave.

Fucking Dean Winchester and his big mouth.

He doesn’t show himself to Dean in the next three days. He ignores him completely, doesn’t even bother going out of his room. Food is not a problem for Castiel.

_How much can you avoid a person when you live in the same house?_

* * *

Gabriel laughs at him when he calls his brother on the pod. Hologram Gabriel hovers on the air when Castiel told him of his grievances and Dean demanding torture.

“You are so married, Cassie. What are the odds of you getting the loudest human being in history to be your legal husband? Ever heard of finding your opposite? Bro—you’re really the victim here!”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, but you’re the one spilling your dirty laundry at your innocent brother early in this series. Am I to expect more calls in the future?”

“Gabriel.” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose, “You’re not helping.”

“How can you expect me to help when you don’t listen to the things I say anyway? And what are you going to do? _The Stands_ is next week?”

Castiel doesn’t answer. Right. The Stands. He has received the circular two weeks after marrying Dean. The Stand is a customary gathering of all the pairs that that has gone through WEDLOCKED ceremony. This means the paramilitary personnel and their rebel partners appearing in public display for the entire city to see. Just imagining himself standing there with Dean, eyes upon them not to see how happily married they are—which is still questionable at that point—but how in control the Officers are.

It’s a Stand to show complete control.

Castiel chomps on his piece of bread and doesn’t appreciate the taste. His chest tightens. Somehow, he misses the seclusion of outer space.

“Cas?”

“I’ll just hope he doesn’t choke me during the aerial view. Then half the world would know how I am very much in control of the situation.”

“You sound depressing, I’ll give you that.”

Castiel ignores him.

“But Cassie, only you and Winchester will be in the Stand. No one else got married off like he did. I guess the Paramilitary really wants to put you in the spotlight.”

But Castiel is no longer listening. He has been told to report progress and he’s tried to give them a very accurate description of how he easily overpowered Dean. That was the last report he gave them.

To explicitly show everyone Dean’s winning personality at this early stage of the game? One word?

_Fuck._

* * *

_Trust issues?_ For someone like him who lived in isolation for years and only relying on his team to keep him alive? No, Castiel does not have negative _trust issues._

_It’s the opposite in fact._

But in the face of the present...

Castiel sets the table and sighs. With a look over the living room couch where Dean is still watching the sunrise, he waits. It’s been an hour since the man has woken up and Castiel, noticing how the man reacted to the visual rising of the sun, couldn't find it in himself to turn it off. So, he left it there with Dean asleep on the couch then prepared breakfast.

He looks down the table set with the food Gabriel left last night and shrugs. Living in space with only powdered food and 3D products designed to remain fresh, Castiel has little practice of living with the norm. Though, he has a knack when it comes to following orders and instructions to the last letter, and normally gets it perfectly done on the first try. Competent enough on everything, he was able to gain access to the highest office in the Central because of this ability, and for now, he’s going to use that in order to get a handle on this man.

His eyes linger on the rebel for a few moments.

No, he should stop thinking of Dean as a rebel. Dean is his husband now so it’s only natural that he calls him…

Cas frowns. They are legally married alright, but to call someone he barely knows his husband. He looks down his rings thoughtfully.

“Hey.”

Castiel looks up quietly. Dean is standing by the entryway of the kitchen next to the breakfront. His eyes stay on Castiel for a moment, then his eyes fall on the table. For a moment his hesitation is obvious, then he looks up with a poker face.

“This uh…”

“Yes, please sit down.” Castiel wipes his hand on the hand towel he was holding. Dean doesn’t move though. He just stays there, watching Castiel intently. Cas tilts his head and looks down his front. Having just prepared, he had his white collared shirt’s sleeves up his elbow. Draped on his front is the black apron sprinkled with tiny little bees which Castiel is very fond of. He looks up at the rebel— _his husband—_ with a tilted head.

“Is there a problem?”

Dean looks down the floor and shifts on his feet. t’s been a while since they’ve been in this picture. He’s not in the mood for Dean’s dramatics like the whole Earthsea revolves around him.

“What?” he snaps.

“Oh… I… you’re talking again, I noticed.” Dean clears his throat and looks away.

Castiel stares. Dean looks up quickly, quite defensively. “I—I don’t want to call you one of those shits okay? You seemed okay to me… I mean, you… yesterday…”

“If you are feeling a little less murderous, you can join me for breakfast.”

Castiel has no choice but to inform Dean about the Stands. He doesn’t meet Dean’s eyes. He knows Dean knows what the Stands mean after all. They show a live broadcast of that around the Walls outside to make a point of who holds dominance.

As Gabriel said, everyone will be watching. Castiel feels that tightness in his stomach again. So as what Gabriel already deduced from last night, Castiel must be doing a very poor job with Dean. How exactly do you discipline a man already at the rock bottom? What exactly do they want him to do? Make the man shed blood not tears?

It disgusts him.

Then he finds Dean silently staring at him from across the breakfast table. Castiel throws him a funny look. It’s the first time they’ve spoken in three days, mostly Castiel walking past him in silence and refusing to join him in for breakfast. And Dean gives him this looking slightly relieved. What the hell does that mean? Castiel is not good with deciphering human words after all. Give him signs and symbols of a dying star, he will give you a chart and each phase it will go, but with Dean… he thinks there are no words to explain a Dean.

They finish eating in silence, but Castiel can’t help feeling that Dean is observing every movement he makes. The moment he stands to put their plates in the automatic washer, the way he drinks water, the moment he disappears to his room as he needs to get Dean’s clothes prepared.

 _Great._ Maybe Dean is thinking of the several ways he can show how he is still the leader Castiel can’t let him. For one, it will put both of them in danger.

He doesn’t want to think of the consequences if Dean smashes his face in front of a live audience. He doesn’t want to think how the Stands showing them off will turn into a brawl. He waits agonizingly for that day the world finally sees how good he is with human interaction.

* * *

“Aren’t you going to give me any instruction manual for this thing?” Dean asks and Castiel pauses to appreciate how the clean unit uniform fits Dean’s body. But today is compulsory.

Today they need to be in the Stand.

“Pass.”

“What?”

“I don’t plan to give you any orders you never listen to. I’m sure if I ask anything of you, you’ll do the exact opposite.” Castiel says tiredly.

“Okay, that’s fair.” Dean looks thoughtful for a moment.

Castiel rolls his eyes. He hears the rustle of fabric and has to frown at the man for all Dean Winchester is a big pain in the ass.

“What kind of crappy dress is this anyway? It’s way too tight. Do I look as good as you? You look really good in that, Cas—”

They look at each other with Castiel wondering why Dean envies him— because he is certain it is envy. He catches in Dean’s eyes, the green eyes raking his body is making him shiver, thinking of them turning into a caress.

But Dean looks remarkably different too. Castiel knows- admits that Dean is the most handsome man he's ever seen. And up close while fighting especially, but now Dean even looks more stunning in his tidy dress and fixed hair, green eyes telling of different stories as it glints... and being a rebel always on the run, Dean doesn't have to shy away from his very much fitted uniform. Black and white interlaces the uniform with the towers symbolizing power, control. Yet all Castiel sees are the thickness of Dean’s broad shoulders, the muscles of his thighs and the line curving his pectorals down to his ripped middle. The perfect way the fabric shapes Dean’s back down to the globes of his backside and in front... Castiel stares. He’s never seen this since their marriage but Dean had been bloody then. Right now, Dean is…

Castiel pulls his eyes away, grumbling. Dean definitely saw him looking and is amused by it judging from the smirk on his face.

“What’s that, Cas?”

“Stop the Cas. Call me properly." 

"Why? It suits you. And white does your blue eyes a number..."

Castiel glares sharply at the man. If this is an attempt to put him at ease, he needs to be alert.

"Dean, don't overkill me with flattery. I don’t expect formalities, just so you know I can strike you twice as much as you give me. It’s what they would expect of me, I suppose.”

There’s a pause.

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind,” Castiel heads for the door, inclining for Dean to follow, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Castiel drives his jet-black car to the center of Division Core where he can see a large group of people already waiting at the foot of the Stands. Dean, who has been gushing about the car’s unique features as something he had seen before, stops breathing as he sees the stage.

In the middle of the city comes the tallest tower among the four. It’s black and crystalized and emitting power to intimidate. Darkness looms at the top. Beneath its root is the grand stage where three people are already waiting with their flashing lights. Dean curses beside Castiel.

“Relax, they only want to see how disciplined you’ve been.”

“Yeah, right,” Dean snorts derisively.

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Castiel echoes him. Dean flashes him a look but Castiel is already pulling from his side of the car.

Lights flare their way as Castiel squints at all the flashing lights. He finds Dean beside him in a few seconds, just as Lucifer and Balthazar approaches.

“Discipline here is crazy, now I get it,” Dean says beside him all of a sudden. Castiel stands still because Dean has stepped too close in his space.

“What?”

“These reporters, right? Why aren’t they mugging us? Sure, I get it, we’re both celebrities here. You the insane skyscraper—”

“Walker.” Castiel corrects him dully.

“Yeah, yeah… and me, the handsome Titan from the outside who’s been wreaking havoc there. What does that make the combination of us, Cas?”

“Utterly chaotic.”

Dean actually laughs in his ear. Castiel steps away to greet Balthazar formally while beside his superior, Lucifer is mostly looking at Dean who has found his place beside Cas again. Everything around them is the flickering lights, and cheers from the audience all keeping their lines.

“Castiel, look at you, handsome as ever,” Balthazar says and before Castiel can duck, the man has pressed a quick peck on his cheek. “It’s been how many days?”

“A week, I think,” Castiel says, “It felt longer.”

“Of course, considering you had to deal with uh… a whole new bag of a treat.” Balthazar’s cold eyes fall on Dean.

Castiel feels Dean pressing close to him again, shoulder to chest, Dean’s large frame covering his back. A quick lookup, he sees Dean staring murderously at Balthazar.

“Dean,” Castiel calls, heart in his throat as he grips Dean’s arm. It did the work, Dean steps back but he remains so close behind Castiel, he can feel Dean breathing on his hair. A little confused, Castiel gets distracted by Lucifer smiling down at him. Balthazar nods and the four of them head to the stage, Castiel and Dean’s faces on the monitor screen.

“Seems like you got him by the collar, Castiel,” Balthazar says once they are on the stand. Out of nowhere, Dean’s hands snake around his waist from behind. Castiel freezes.

“What are you doing?” Castiel hisses at Dean, the grip of the man on his waist is scandalizing, “Dean—”

“What?” Dean whispers in his ear as he presses Castiel forward for everyone to see.

“Give me a heads up if you are planning to kill me in front of everyone, please,” Cas says, “I don’t plan to make it easy. You’ve been warned.”

“Oh, Cas, you _flirt_.”

The cameras flash. The newlyweds are welcomed. Dean is on his best behavior and Castiel has to tighten his hand to push Dean a little away with his heart hammering in his chest. Dean looks perfect. Castiel doesn’t know what Dean is playing at, but under all the limelight, the flashing smile of Dean Winchester, the way he meekly lowers his eyes in front of Castiel as submission—the way he smiles playfully at Castiel’s confused face—is all daunting.

Dean is planning to kill him tonight, that’s for sure.

“What are you doing?” Castiel repeats a little breathlessly when Dean entwines their hands together and stands behind Castiel to face the entire city, smiling and waving like he won the prize.

“This is the publicity stunt, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but not for your benefit,” He hisses back, cheek pressing on Dean’s nose who’s leaning so close behind him.

“Hey, you better start acting your part, man, my cheeks are killing me. Though, being grumpy is part of your charm, huh?”

“What?”

Dean pecks him on the cheek. Castiel freezes as he and Dean’s eyes connect for what felt like an eternity—the green in his eyes are embers in the many brilliant flashes of lights. Then Dean did something that nearly had his heart-stopping. Dean leans closer in his ears and whispers—

“Stop kissing other men in public, dude. Not good for my reputation.”

Castiel flushes.

“Alright, love birds.” Lucifer suddenly calls as he steps in the Stands too, eyeing the new couple with gleaming eyes. “It does feel like you’re having fun, but not as much fun as he had, Castiel,” Lucifer says, making Castiel frown a little as he pulls himself from the distraction that is his husband.

Maybe it was part of that act. Dean’s hands are tight on his stomach.

“What—?”

“Look, I don’t know what you two play at behind closed doors, but I can tell you for sure Azazel misses his toy, you know what I’m saying?”

Castiel flares. He doesn’t know how—one minute he was facing Balthazar, the next second he is standing in front of Lucifer and even if the man towers against him, Castiel stares him down, hands clench beside him.

“As I understand it you and Azazel laid hand on my charge a day before our ceremony?”

Lucifer meets his eyes and crudely smiles. “And what are you going to do about—”

Castiel punches him right across the cheek. There’s a roar across the Division Core but Castiel can only see red and it’s not enough.

Strong hands hold him firmly after that, strong, protective arms.

* * *

“You do not punch a member of the Core Command in front of thousands of people, are you insane?!”

“What are you freaking out about? Everyone knows Lucifer is insane and gets into fights even back in the training ground.” Castiel reasons to Gabriel that night.

When the chaos in the Stands have been interrupted by Balthazar laughing in front of the screens and declaring ‘that’s why you shouldn’t make passes at someone else’s charge, Lu, makes the owner jealous.”

Castiel is hit by the word owner and he glances at Dean.

Balthazar has yet again saved his ass. Lucifer smiled and waved it off as he spat blood on the ground but the murderous look he gave Castiel was real. Castiel doesn’t care. He told himself he will make those people who hurt Dean pay. He did. He made his peace at the bloody wedding ceremony.

“Castiel, stop acting like a barbarian, alright?”

“I was protecting my pride,” Castiel glowers and that was enough to shut Gabriel up. Castiel doesn’t care, they bit him first. Gabriel sighs on the monitor and he looks twice his age. Castiel only feels slightly sorry for him. He flexes his shoulders.

“Have you heard anything about Dean’s brother?” he asks instead, finally figuring out the reason for Dean’s silent agony at night. Gabriel shakes his head.

“We can’t talk about it on this line.”

“Well, then, but Gabe?” he turns a serious look at his brother, “Punching him was the best feeling I ever had.”

“I know, you baby,” Gabriel agrees with a wink.

He goes down to be greeted by clapping of hands. Dean is standing at the foot of the three stairs, staring at Castiel warmly with arms crossing his chest. Castiel quietly sighs, trying not to remember Dean’s strong arms pulling him off, both in defence and protection after his assault at Lucifer.

Right now, Dean is staring at him with gem eyes glinting like he hasn’t been living with Castiel for many painful weeks and he is just seeing him now as clear as daylight.

Castiel squints.

“Is something on my face?”

“No… no, your face is perfect.”

“Okay.” He notices Dean still has garment on the table. It makes him sigh and wants to insist on the study room again, he even told Dean he can still see the sunrise from his wall but Dean won’t have it. He doesn’t understand if this is Dean not trusting to be put behind a small four-walled room, or just more comfortable acting as a vanguard. Well, whatever works for Dean.

“You can put your personal stuff in the tube over there by the door—the black one. Don’t put anything on the red one, it’s for delivery. If you accidentally put your mouthwash there and it gets transported to Sorting Hub, they don’t discriminate from unused one to open ones, as long as the codes have been read and it returns to them, they’ll immediately dispose of it. Then we have to buy you another one.”

“And that’s gonna be a big problem for you right?” Dean says. Castiel gives him a narrowed look.

“Yes, I don’t believe in wasting things. Well, do you need anything else?” they got back in their capsule while Dean chuckled in silence at Castiel the entire ride. Castiel can’t help his amusement too. Dean must be pretty violent in nature to enjoy the kind of show Castiel provided for the entire city to see.

“I’m fine, but are you going to be okay?”

Castiel arches an eyebrow. “What?”

Dean steps a little closer, instinctively making Castiel stand straighter but Dean doesn’t pose any harm the way his arms hang in the air, “You know… you cobbled your superior.”

“Lucifer is an insane man, even the members of Core Command agree with that,” Castiel says briskly, knocking Dean’s shoulder as he walks past him to the kitchen.

“Are you the only one they allow to treat superiors like that?”

“It so happens I’m more popular than he is.”

Dean’s face cracks. He joins him at the table for dinner with light dancing in his eyes.

Castiel presses his lips closed and gets hyper-aware how Dean is staring at him, taking him into the point of discomfort.

“Thank you for that.”

Castiel tilts his head. Dean’s eyes light up.

“Go and eat, Dean.”

It’s small, barely becoming, but it’s there for a full second. He smiles at Dean. It’s the least he can do, remembering how Dean covered him with his body when Lucifer’s initial reaction was to attack him back.

Dean was there.

Castiel tells himself not to be affected, but it’s a hard play when every time he looks at Dean opposite him, he sees that deadpan.

Sometimes he would see a glint of something warm there, occasional surprise at what Castiel accidentally says, then immediately shades to something dark and unreadable. Castiel finds himself hating that. Dean hides from him but he cannot find the right words to say. They may be married by the system, but he and Dean barely know each other and this wall between them is the bitter truth. They can never trust each other. This relationship is bound to be full of pain. Dean seems to know it. Dean seems to wait for it.

And yet, Castiel doesn’t stop craving to see more every time breakfast is served and Dean forgets himself when Castiel accidentally cracks a joke. One time, Castiel casually mentions how he rebuked a woman by merely telling her about her father.

All because Dean suddenly asks out of nowhere if Castiel ever dated anyone. He knew it was coming. The way Dean was nagging him about Balthazar last time too. Castiel doesn’t know the agenda behind this.

“Why would you ask that?” Castiel frowns. A nagging Dean is no better than an annoying puppy continuously pawing on his legs. Then again, he’s never had a puppy. He doesn't have anything until now 

“Oh, nothing.” Dean doesn’t meet his eyes and for some reason, Castiel would say that the rebel is acting shy.

“It’s not nothing if it comes from you.” he chews his meat quietly, raising both eyebrows the way Dean stares at him with round eyes.

“I uh, you know… uh… if you’d have other acquaintances I need to know about—you know those just kisses you in front of me— maybe past boyfriend—?”

“Dean, you don’t need to ask about my fidelity,” Castiel says drily, “we’re married.”

He raises his ring finger. And just like Castiel expected, his gorgeous green eyes light the room around him. His heart skips a beat. Why can’t Dean be more like that smiling figure with the soft crinkling of the corner of his eyes and not the morose guy on his couch every day?

Then he realizes how Dean is slowly changing around him. No more grunts, no darker side if he can help it.

Just Dean happily waiting for him when he wakes up in the morning. Like a dog.

A very cute… green-eyed dog. Castiel shakes his head. No doubt Dean would punch him if it ever comes into a discussion. But just as the days pass by with them getting into soft moods enough to be even talking about Castiel’s experience up in the sky, what Dean has seen outside the gates, the threats of the unshakeable monsters with their poisons— and then, of course, their conversation would stray to Sam. The only thing Castiel can’t answer Dean’s question.

“I want to know what happened to my brother.”

Castiel shuts down like a machine. He realizes again, how it’s the only question where he can’t look Dean in the eyes properly. Because he doesn’t know. He can’t express it in apologies and Dean doesn’t ask for it. He just quietly sinks back on the couch, the same morose guy Castiel has first seen, longing for his brother.

Castiel doesn’t like the stretch of helplessness in the following weeks. Dean was okay mostly, but they don’t jump into the same topics when they can help it. Dean was amenable enough to let Castiel teach him how the technology of their house works. It wasn’t complicated, and Castiel confirmed something he knew all along, Dean Winchester is smart. It took Dean only a few days to figure out how the holographic laundry machine works (only because he insists on cleaning his own clothes) and then he took no time in taking charge of the kitchen that every time Castiel comes back home from an errand that needs his immediate presence, which here includes meeting with the new team heading to space in replacement of Castiel, he will find his home filled with Dean’s home cooking.

It still amazes Castiel how someone broad and brass as Dean can actually make his kitchen smell insanely sweet and appealing. He has left Dean to purchase anything he needs in the kitchen the night the man requested full access in the kitchen. He can say that he doesn’t regret it.

He goes home past sunset with Dean waiting for him by the table, chicken roll and thick burgers with a touch of salad only one of the few things on the table.

“Are we celebrating something?”

Dean rubs the tip of his nose with a tinge of red on his cheeks.

“Dunno… just felt like it… also… would you believe it’s been a month since we got married?”

Castiel smiles. Of course, he remembers. He remembers the day he saw Dean in the white clothes with bleeding lips and bloody knuckles. Dean in pain. How can he forget?

Compare that to the beaming face right now, Castiel won’t forget a month after that too. They chatter about Dean’s new interest in fixing the broken machines Castiel has kept in the storage room, the ones he was using ten years ago before the space exploration and broken by the time he got back home. He tells Dean the progress of the new Skywalkers, how Castiel will have to stay with the Walkers unit until they launch because he’s the expert behind the exploration.

Dean looks at him funny, thoughtfully at first, then somber. Before Castiel knows what’s happening, Dean is pressing a hand on top of his. He meets Dean’s eyes. He sees in the green glow something he cannot understand, something deeper and more complicated than any wormhole or a dead star…

Something…

Castiel pulls his hand back not to rebuke Dean, no. He pulls out something from his wrist, a small cylindrical pen. He clicks the top and it turns into a solid square panel. Castiel turns it on and then gives it to Dean.

Dean frowns at him as he takes it. Castiel watches Dean quietly as the man finally understands it for what it is.

It’s a camera view of his brother fast asleep on a table with an oxygen mask on his face, IV drip in his arms. Dean’s face crumples.

“He’s alive,” Castiel says quietly, clutching both his hands on his lap because he can’t reach for Dean. It feels too impersonal. He leaves Dean. He can’t stay there where Dean is fighting the sound of his own voice. Castiel locks himself inside his study room, back pressing on the door. 

Somehow, gone are the days he can watch Dean like this and feel nothing. Leaving, admiring Dean’s love for his brother. Castiel sighs.

Pressing Gabriel for the recording that was taken two weeks ago too… he wonders if he can tell Dean that. He can’t ask for more, Gabriel said it’s too dangerous. The public does not respond well to viruses from the outside they do not know. Mass panic will ensue if they find out. So it’s the last Gabriel can give him

It’s the least thing he can do for Dean.


	5. Novak & Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have work out to do. And kisses too.

[ ](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

“Have you seen this, Cas?”

Castiel comes down to the breakfast table with a stiff neck after sleeping in a very awkward position last night. If it involved him sitting on the bed and watching his husband on the monitor for the rest of the evening, he certainly isn’t planning to tell a soul about that.

He has just taken his place on the table when Dean is shoving a tablet magazine on his face. Castiel blinks owlishly at the Discord Weekly and sees his own face smiling on the covers. He remembers that the capsule engineers behind him, his Capsule he already misses— all that speaks of his past weeks ago like they are something distant.

“I see it now.” He says gruffly, flicking the tablet away from his face as he searches for his coffee. Dean pushes Castiel’s mug in his direction while his green eyes are still on the report.

“Boy, I sometimes forget you’re a local hero.”

Castiel grunts as he looks around the table for his breakfast and again finds Dean pushing him a plate from the other side. Castiel tilts his head for a moment, then attacks his plate, barely listening to what the man is saying.

At this point, Castiel barely cares if Dean attacks him. He gulps his pasta then levels his eyes at the man. Dean’s last words just sunk in and Castiel shakes his head.

“I’m no hero.”

“That’s not what they said here.” Dean grins.

“The same reporters said you’re the worse of your kind, I don’t see that as true.”

Oh. Dean’s face visibly turns velvet. Castiel has never seen a face so openly readable. At least, not what he was expecting from a guy who tried to murder him in their first night together.

“So, Cas—”

“I would prefer if you complete the name my birth mother gave me.”

“Castiel? What’s that some sort of—uh…. what kind of name is that?”

“It’s a celestial name. Of heaven.” Castiel finds himself answering with a finger pointing up. Dean frowns at him. “Look, Dean. It looks like we’re going to have to talk about a lot of things.”

“Yeah, I like that.”

“You like talking?”

“You don’t?” Dean frowns. “I mean, for me, yeah… at least… how else will I know stuff? I mean, my brother taught me how to read and write... couldn't tell the difference of your letters without another guy so... I'm asking."

Castiel blinks at Dean.

Does he have any idea how his expressions soften a million times better every time he mention Sam's name? But he did notice that since he gave Dean the recorded footage of his younger brother, Dean's whole demeanor changed drastically.

_Is that why Dean is now nice to him?_

"I wanna know about you.”

Castiel tilts his head. 

"You have a magazine. Go read."

"Oh, I will since it's about you. What else is a man to do in his spare time if he cannot enter his husband's room?"

Castiel chokes on his food. Painfully. 

When over the embarrassment, he squints at the man quietly giggling opposite him and it made his eyes narrow.

Castiel recalls discussing trust issues with himself. Dean wants to know about him. Apparently wants to get inside his room too. Now that's a different story. He momentarily considers if he should remind Dean about what the rings can do if he wills it.

The look on his face must give away his thoughts because the next thing, Dean is narrowing eyes at him.

“Why is there a law in your archives where I am not supposed to ask about my husband or chat my life away just because we’re from different sides? Unless you tell me the deepest darkest secrets of this place, but hey, husband’s prerogative right?”

“Even if this place has _deepest-darkest-secrets_ I wouldn’t know.” Castiel simpers, “You already know how I’m from space— magazine told you so.”

“Oh, yeah, you look really hot here with all that hair…” Dean’s eyes jump to Castiel’s messy locks, it made the former Skywalker try to pad them down.

“Oh, yeah, really hot like that, darling.” Dean grins blindingly.

“Shut up, Dean.” Castiel grumpily finishes his coffee noting Dean confidence in speaking his mind even when he knows he is in the presence of a former paramilitary officer. He knew the man has a formidable background, and after what he went through with VOLTS, he didn’t expect him to be this… what is this… _sociable?_

“Stop patting your hair, you look really good. Too good.”

“Stop praising me.” Castiel forces his hand down the table while Dean arches an eyebrow in his direction.

“You know we’re married?”

“Thank you for reminding me, Dean. I’m sorry I looked like someone who hit my head really bad enough for you to remind me of these things.”

“Hey, no problem, hottie.”

“And stop with the _labels. Mmm._ I am beginning to like the past you."

"You like me then? You must like me now. What do we call ourselves? Mr. Novak and Winchester. Co?" Dean smirks and the way he’s very pretty over breakfast is unbelievable.

It’s also refreshing to know that Dean can also hold his gaze. People around him usually have difficulty in keeping up. Gabriel tells him he scares them with that _look._ Dean doesn't look scared. On the contrary...

Castiel shakes his head. It’s not good to be blushing at this point, on his own.

With a very dangerous, irresistible man.

Dean smiles. Castiel frowns. “What?”

“Uh…” he grins and Castiel thinks something in his system just broke. “I just remembered something… you know while they had me drugged…. after the ceremony? You’re kinda like that woman—”

“Woman?” Castiel arches an eyebrow. Maybe he should make Dean agree not to talk about any _past acquaintances_ in his presence. Dean nods though.

“Yeah, yeah that woman who checked my vitals before we got married… you know…. Before they strapped me up with your cursed rings.”

“Dean— I didn’t know—” Castiel stops. Dean keeps smiling at him.

“So, it was you who kept calling my name… when I was so out of it in pain. It was really you.”

Dean’s eyes soften again and there’s only so much Castiel can take.

“I’m sorry it happened, Dean. They were not supposed to do that before any Wedlocked.” Castiel sighs. “Pam—the woman who looked after you, she didn’t know either. I don’t know what happened.”

“Oh, I know what happened,” Dean says with a grimace. “And I’m sorry I uh… you know… acted that way when I woke up. It was all in my head and I thought you were trying to hurt me. You know… reflex. I’m sorry I messed up your living room. I uh… I hope I didn’t break anything important.” Dean looks down at the table.

Castiel is able to put a very careful blank face, but deep inside he’s stumped.

“It’s okay. I do not invest in material objects unless they have a particular reason to hold importance. Take for example this apron.” He unhooks the strings from his body and places it carefully on top of the table. “If you tore this, I would not have been lenient. This was given to me by my brother.”

“Lenient?” Dean guffaws, “You nearly broke my arm and my neck! And I was… wild. After everything, I was about to murder you… I’m sorry. Dude, seriously. So yeah, I didn’t really expect them to pair me up with someone I can take easily. You must be a master rank or something.” He grins again.

“By the way, this is you hailing yourself?” Castiel narrows his eyes at the man. Dean grins again.

“You smacked that officer for me, huh? You got some rebel blood in you, anyone told you that, Cas?”

“Well, that puts things into perspective.” He frowns down his food. One second of telling Dean to stop calling him Cas and now he gets to be labelled as a fitting _rebel._ Unbelievable. “Let’s eat, Dean.”

“What are these?” Dean takes the play and tilts it sideways curiously. “I heard you people from in-bound have the most incredible food. I mean, I've been eating a lot, didn't you notice—?”

“Inbound?” Castiel has never heard that word.

“In-bound. That’s what we call you people over the walls. We’re ex-bound if you’re asking. But I don’t think we’ll call each other that, Cas. I mean, you don’t call your husband that, right?” Dean peers at him inquiringly.

And again, Castiel is stumped.

“Yes, of course.” Dean is embracing the idea. 

“I think this is good.” Dean chops his fork on the meat slab, then brings it up to his mouth.

Castiel can’t help staring again.

Dean is eating so sinfully, no one should look that beautiful while stuffing his face with food. But then he finds himself standing and bring Dean the food from last night’s celebration. Dean helps himself with it too. Five seconds and Dean moans unbiddenly. There’s a savory expression on his face that strikes Castiel. “ _Shit, this is delicious!”_

Castiel gapes. Dean wolfs down everything he can reach. It takes him a minute to pull himself from the stupor. Dean stops stuffing his face when he looks up.

“I could have poisoned the food, Dean,” he says with a grimace. Dean straightens and looks down the food thoughtfully like it just occurred to him too.

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Yeah, exactly, that’s what I thought.” Dean laughs and begins biting on the loaf of bread Gabriel sent him last time. Dean’s cheeks are bulging. “Oh, shit! What is this?” he stares open-mouthed at the sweet plums and cakes. Castiel shrugs, not particularly a fan of sweets.

“Sweet plum pie and strawberry cake…”

“Cake? Pie? ” Dean’s mouth waters and the dessert just disappears on his mouth that apparently can vacuum up anything. Castiel doesn’t bother telling him the order of eating stuff. He has a feeling it will be brushed aside. “Aren’t you gonna eat, Cas? You prepared so much stuff, eat. Stop watching me, I ain’t gonna disappear.”

“This is not my preparation,” Castiel explains at the questioning eyes. “Um… my brother sent it for our first Stand because there will be many…”

“You only have one brother? Have you been married before?”

“Yes and no.”

“This is your first time being married through Wedlocked?” he almost demands.

“Yes?”

Dean nods looking pleased. But Castiel has other things in his mind. Like the guy he just met and married—the guy supposed to be making him miserable—and after that display and fighting weeks ago, Castiel never expected this feeling he thought he would be forever robbed of.

_Peace._

“Got something on my face?”

Castiel closes his lips. No, he’s not going to say anything about Dean’s face in fear of being misunderstood. Quietly, he takes his fork and begins fiddling with the sandwich on his plate.

“Why do you call me ‘Cas’?” he looks up. He fights the tugging smile trying to break on his face. Dean looks up from wrestling a steak bone with both hands. “And please… swallow first.” He looks pointedly at the water container by the sink he forgot to put on the table.

Swallowing hard, Dean looks between them.

“Oh, shit, this food is so good… Cas, marry me again.”

“Definitely not.” Castiel frowns.

“Guess not.” Dean happily takes more serving, “So, Cas.” Dean shrugs, “I mean, I want to call you ‘beautiful’—”

Silence falls in the kitchen. It’s the first time Castiel notices that it was not there from the beginning. Since Dean came.

He studies Dean. The tips of Dean’s ears are red and it’s the first time the man’s not looking at him today. But why would Dean go to the trouble of contimues flattery? It confuses Castiel further.

What is Dean doing?

Dean raises his eyes. “Can I?”

“I…” Castiel stammers, head all over the place. Did Dean hit his head, “Why?”

“Because it's what husbands do.” Dean raises his ringed finger-like Cas has forgotten. “Cas, you are really clueless about this stuff, huh? Or do we have a different idea of marriage? I read too you know… I’ve read this book from building wreckage, like two years ago? About the history of the world, how it ended? Customs of people. Marriage? Uh… are you an alien or something? You’re the educated ones from the in-bound, not me.”

“I—I’m sorry.” Castiel closes his fists on the table. “I must confess, I am confused. I do know about history, Dean. I know what was here and what they did… but your idea of marriage is obsolete and the system right now is you being—”

Dean lowers his fork.

“So… am I really going to be like your slave here or something?”

“What—”

“Yeah, that’s what that bastard told me in the white cell while he tortured me— _am I your slave?_ ” he did not shout, but the power in his voice reverberates in the room. There’s a moment where tension rises. Such tension, but Castiel understand. Dean is not angry _with him_. It’s the system of how the WEDLOCKED worked.

“No, Dean. You’re not.” He answers calmly, “But it’s better you know that old tradition does not work with our marriage too.” That erases the tension in Dean’s shoulder, but his eyes remain dark.

“I get that. Getting selected according to frigging rings, you think I don’t? Leaves you the question who’s manipulating behind the black box, huh? How we ended up together, doesn’t that sound suspicious to you? Or you really buy that bull-crap about _fate,_ set by your rings?”

“You seem to be more knowledgeable about the system,” Cas observes.

“You think I’m blindingly fighting them, huh?”

Castiel takes the break. They don't have to fight about everything. He can choose not to.

“You don’t strike me as one. At the very least, I don’t think you’re stupid, otherwise, you wouldn’t be the leader of a maximum terrorist group watched by Central.” Castiel grits his teeth.

“I don't too, so quit acting like you don’t know there’s something wrong with your system!” he lets go of the steak, fists closing. “There are people hungry out there, your inn junk doesn’t want to let in without making them your slaves! You think that’s right!?” Dean glowers back.

“We’re not going to talk about that here.” Castiel looks down at his plate, with appetite gone. Quietly, he takes the napkin, wipes it on his lips and stands up with his plate. He drops it on the automatic washing dispenser and faces Dean who’s watching him carefully.

“You can leave everything on the table when you’re done. The shower room is upstairs, in my room."

Dean gapes. The bathroom Dean is using is not as extravagant as the one he has on his room. He doesn't even know why he is offering it. "In my room... I already set it to recognize your ring, but that’s the only place you can have access to. Take a long cooling. _Cool yourself down._ I prepared your clothes there too. When you’re done and ready, you can join me in the living room.We can discuss any questions you have about the rings." 

A month in their married life and now Castiel feels he can tell Dean this since they are openly bickering about the ring system now. "I think it’s better that you know… And Dean?”

Dean glances sideways to acknowledge his voice. Castiel’s eyes flickers.

“I never thought I could enslave anyone. I do not have absolute power over the worlds. All of us here are winging it. If that’s what you’re angry about.”

He leaves Dean in silence while he walks to the other side of the room and locks himself in his study room where all his books and collections about the galaxy are currently kept. He slumps down the soft chair and flicks the scene to cover the entire wall and ceiling with just the galaxy where he sought for calm and peace. He may have judged Dean too early. Maybe peace will be something he has to fight for after all.

Still, the bright green stars burn in his memory.

* * *

Castiel keeps a monitored wall over his room. Dean doesn’t come out of the bathroom for about half an hour. Castiel is sitting with crossed legs on his comfortable couch when the bathroom door finally opens and Dean leaves the bedroom.

Putting his book down, Castiel presses the wall and the monitor disappears. He stands up and stretches his neck. He takes one look at the deep and serene purple galaxy before turning it off too and everything in the room returned to its normal white.

Opening the door, he finds Dean walking down the stairs with eyes sweeping the living room until they lock on his face. As usual, Dean is easy to read. Castiel looks away, closing the door behind him. He pointedly walks to the couch they shared that morning.

“Sit down, Dean.” He says, sitting down on the far end of the single chair. Dean follows on the other side, hesitating a little, before taking the space on the long couch.

“Y-you cleaned the mess.” He clears his throat.

“It wasn’t difficult.” Castiel stares off at the wall, hands clasped. He took care of it fifteen minutes ago when he realized Dean would not be coming out soon. “Anyway, I want to talk to you about the rings.” He looks down at his hands. The black and silver rings gleam under the morning sky but Dean’s no longer looking at them. His whole attention is on Castiel.

“Yeah. Kinda… limitation for a criminal?”

Castiel lifts his eyes. “Well, you’re not wrong.”

Dean casually meets his eyes. But really, Castiel doesn’t know what to expect.

“What do you know about the Rings, Dean?”

“I know for a fact it gives you identity,” Dean starts with heavy eyes. Castiel is certain the man is choosing his words carefully. “We don’t run on money anymore so no matter how many stashes of money we find under abandoned buildings, we just burn them. And the coins? We melt them. Make them into weapons to fight off what’s out there, hungry for our flesh. Lost many of my men fighting off the monsters.”

Castiel knows exactly what Dean means. Everyone in Division Core’s aware of the monsters that lurk in the abyss. Gabriel told him these monsters are non-continental creatures that evolved in the radioactive environment. Images of these creatures, not quite human and not quite a species of animals, outside the walls believed to eat human flesh. One of the reasons strict measures were put in place regarding accepting contaminated humans. They fear the hybrid, or at least, Gabriel believes theoretically there are already some among the Outsiders—that’s why they stopped accepting refugees.

He’s seen much footages of Dean from afar, fighting off these monsters. Never in his life would he thought of being in the same room with the man who stood and killed three monsters with only a jackknife.

A guy who can easily slash his neck. But Castiel doesn’t feel threatened.

“We call them Level-E.” he informs Dean. “My brother, Gabriel, is the head of the Research Laboratory on Core Command. He studies the specimen VOLTS bringing in his laboratory. There’s a special group in VOLTS that deals with them, the same as the special group trained to deal with the rebels. You didn’t make it easy for Zacharia.”

“Hmmm. That bizarro guy who always got his face in mine every time I wake up from dozing off coz he talks nonstop like a bitch?”

Castiel secretly smiles. Also takes note of talking to Zacharia about the Four Horseman’s ring again. Mick hasn’t been crossed off his list too. When he looks back, Dean is already looking at the wall again with a strange lost look, his arms crossed on his chest.

“Your brother doing something about the monsters? He knows about what they can do at most now?” he asks, not looking.

“He’s been studying them for years. He can make a model out of pure memory. He’s an idiot sometimes, but he’s a genius when it comes to his forte. He knows every part, every poison of their fangs. He’s built up a massive database about the antibodies that can be found in them.” Castiel says softly, knowing where the question is about to lead them. “So yes, he knows.”

Dean closes his lips. When he looks at Castiel, his eyes are hooded. “Do you know about my brother?”

“It is necessary information I needed to know. In case you came asking.” he doesn’t tell Dean how they were part of a strategy to mentally torture the man. Make him succumb. Castiel hopes not to use it in any way. Doesn’t mention how Gabriel is already on Sam Winchester too. Sam who was already dosed with poison from the Outside before they got him from the monsters. Dean doesn’t seem to remember how he found a comrade’s body in the underground lab. His memory must still be in pieces.

He wants to ask Dean, but that should be for another day.

“This will ascertain that I am responsible for you.” Castiel starts again after a long pause. Dean looks over to him with a somber expression.

“Our relationship is just because of the ring?” he asks quietly.

“Of course. It’s where it begins.”

“Is it where it will end?” Dean leans forward eagerly, elbows on his knees. There’s something about how he fixates his eyes on the Skywalker that makes Castiel squint. He wishes he’s reading wrongly.

“Of course. That is to say if you do not violate the 5 km radius which in all respect will fry your body worse than any tasers.”

“5 Km?” Dean snorts.

Castiel knows what’s in the man’s mind. Their quick catch up on the lengthy information shows how much they think alike. Half the radius of the entire Division Core, the allowance is a trial. Let the lab rats on a long leash and see where they keep their treasures. They don’t talk about it.

“The right ring gives you access to any places in Division Core where my authority is allowed unless I limit. It will I.D you to be my husband.” He ignores the man shifting in his chair, “Certainly, you are now given the freedom to roam the streets within the permissible radius, but if you disappear without my knowledge, note that the rings have reliable transmitter power generated on all atomic clocks we have on satellites. I can easily track you. The left Ring controls you, so if you want to really escape me, I suggest you rip away my left hand because nothing else can remove the rings except my command and that of the Core Command.”

“This Core Command—”

“Don’t be stupid.” Castiel says sharply, “We do not talk about it.”

Dean eyes him then snorts again. “Fine.”

“The right ring also controls your Rytes— your account if you wish to purchase anything you like—"

“I’m not gonna spend your Rytes!” Dean says indignantly and Castiel is silently pleased. Dean looks insulted enough so he keeps his smile to himself.

“It’s there whether you spend it or not and if you do, spend it wisely. However, you are limited as of now from going outside. Your name is still a hot topic outside. We do not want the Wire to mob you.”

“Am I that famous here?” his grin is too cheeky, Castiel does not have the heart to pull the plug from the bright face. Then Dean frowns. “What about you? Did I cause your name any problems?”

Castiel can’t stop rolling his eyes. “Believe me, it’s nothing to what I had to deal with this morning. On the contrary, it’s good for my reputation.”

A playful flicker lights the green dust of milky way.

“What’s your reputation aside from being mysterious blue-eyed and handsome?”

“I intimidate people. I’m a former VOLTS so it’s a given but I have been out of the scope of many people. I find myself uncomfortable around large groups… And my people skills are rusty.” Castiel clears his throat. It’s true. Being in the outer space has given him little to talk about with other people. The only contact he has so far has been the members of the Core Command, his brother, and now Dean.

“Good,” Dean says.

“Which is?”

“You not meeting people a lot. I mean, I prefer if you’re single, really. I can’t imagine if you’re social…the number of people after you. So, it’s good that we’re married.” He smiles genuinely. Castiel does not like the tumbling of his heart to his stomach.

“Anyway.” he frowns now, “You’re still not cleared to leave the house. You can do whatever you please around here. I’ll be the one to see if it’s safe for you to go out.”

“Are you gonna be sticking on my ass?”

“Excuse me?” the sharp look he gives the man end in uncomfortable silence.

“I mean, if you’re going to tail me in case you let me out?” his husband says through gritted teeth. “Geez, Cas. You think I’m gonna rape you or something.”

 _‘I’d like to see you try_.’ Is what Castiel wants to say as he surveys Dean with a look. “I have to, at least for the most part until people are comfortable seeing you around on your own. They expect it after several weeks.”

“Do people like me really get to be let out on their own?”

Castiel finds himself hating when Dean asks concerning questions like that. But he also finds it easy not to lie. Dean is smart, he never doubted it. The only remaining question is when are they going to explode again?

“I believe most WEDLOCKED do not let their partners out.” Castiel begins carefully. He can see Dean still at attention. “Be it for their own prejudice or taking extra measures to groom their partners into perfect the example of a citizen that can function in society by pounding the rules into their system. I’m not going to lie to you, Dean. I think you have an idea of how they do that. But it is also a fact that it does not have to be a norm everyone should follow. The individuality of the person has to be measured before one gains true judgment of how to handle their partner. Otherwise, they’re only letting dominance reign. That’s why most WEDLOCKED ends in death. I do not wish that upon you.”

“Why?” the growl does not intimidate Castiel. He looks up and sees it again—the dark gleam behind Dean’s eyes, assessing and dominant. Fiery and much alive.

“I’m not a murderer, Dean.” He says in all sincerity. “Why should I thrive from your suffering? We’re all the same.”

Castiel looks down his hands.

“I have been up there. I know how insignificant we are in comparison to the whole universe… but that does not nullify each life’s importance. We are not the center of the universe and yet I haven’t seen any other life out there that has our— _humans—ability to_ change the pattern. To struggle and still survive till the end. Life in the universe is scarce. So, to say life can be replaced, no life is the same. We are already on the brink of extinction. It’s not in our hands to rob others of their lives. Life fades on its own. New life is born. Earthsea is dying, it’s no use putting importance to a piece of land that cannot hold life. That’s why I went out there. I want to find that ability to let life grow… and this…” he touches his ring. Castiel clenches his teeth.

Then he blinks. Closing his fist, he looks up to Dean’s confused expression. He wonders if Dean understands, maybe not. It doesn’t matter.

“I know you think it’s an irony, but I really do not wish to harm you. As long as you are not involved in anything that will risk the lives of my people. I can help you live. That’s my goal in the end, Dean. I became a member of VOLTS to protect. I will leave the same.”

The gravity of their exchange comes to a crashing halt when Dean sighs loud and runs his right hand on his hair aggressively. Unable to control his agitation, he stands up and begins pacing the floor with hands on his waist. _“Fuck.”_

Castiel sits up straight, alert. “What’s the matter?”

“Shit, I’m in trouble.” Dean lets out a huff without looking in his direction, “You’re confusing me, dammit. I knew you were different, not this different. Shit. You’re gonna make it difficult for me now, asshole.”

Castiel raises both eyebrows.

“I would like you to elaborate on that if you please.” He says drily.

Dean shoots him a look, but it’s the alarm of being attacked, possibly killed to death that gets him steeling his eyes when Dean suddenly crosses the distance between them. Dean abruptly stations both his hands on each side of the armchair where Castiel is sitting, making them stare at each other in such proximity, Castiel can see the dust of freckles on Dean’s nose.

“What are you doing?” he says slowly, following the movement of the head, uncertain of the course of action. If Dean was going to hurt him, it’s pretty stupid to stand like this so openly with all his weak points vulnerable. Castiel’s battle experience lies in close contact fighting. Castiel is sure Dean does not mean him that kind of harm. His eyes don’t show that kind of threat, in fact…

“Do you trust me Cas?” their eye are levels. Castiel stubbornly stays straight-backed. He is not going to be pushed around, he lets Dean know that by keeping the same straight face despite the close proximity of their faces, something that may be uncomfortable to some.

“I’d be stupid to do that.”

Dean grins, his eyes soaking up Castiel’s face. Something flutters in his chest. He doesn’t know why he is even allowing someone—Dean—to come up to him this way but he finds himself still mesmerized by how the smile can unhinge the tension between them.

“People ever tell you how captivating you are, Cas?”

Castiel’s eyes widen. _Oh._

“I have been told but no one had the impudence to come this close as far as I am concerned just to look like what you are doing. If they did, I would be throwing them across the room by now. Just for personal space.”

Dean still smiles. “Glad we’re married then.”

“What does that—?”

Dean leans in and sinks his lips onto Castiel’s own. Its full soft lips pressing down with pressure on his own, their noses side to side but the shock to his body is not that he’s against it. On the contrary… it is thrilling. Or did he imagine that? The next thing, Dean comes down yelping on the floor, clutching his middle in pain. Castiel stands up, breathing heavily, eyes cast on the man.

“Dean.” He says through gritted teeth, thumb on the circlet on his left hand having just activated the lightest of all the surging voltage. He can’t fathom what entered this man’s brain to actually think it’s okay to do as he pleases. And to his horror, and somewhat ease, he finds Dean is unhurt. The man is actually chuckling on the floor with eyes laughing more than the curl of pain on his lips.

 _“What?”_ Dean exhales, not getting up, still clutching his stomach. It’s probably where it hits the most but Castiel doesn’t find himself sorry.

“What are you doing?” he asks grimly, releasing the ring from his thumb.

“What are _you_ doing.” Dean lays flat on his back, heaving breathes, “We’re married, aren’t we?”

Castiel blinks, his head tilts almost making Dean upside down. “So?”

The man gives him a puzzling look. “So, we do what married people do, Cas! What else am I supposed to do here cooped up in your house? You’re really gonna keep me just for display? You’re not going to _do dirty things to me?_ Cause let me tell you I have ideas on my own.”

Dean bites his bottom lip suggestively, that sends sparks to Castiel’s brain.

And suddenly it’s a whole different situation. The way Dean looks so _free_ to express, the way he’s just so happy even after getting electrical shock is not what Castiel was expecting. Certainly not this— _this happy man with his shining green eyes trying to put the galaxy into shame—_ staring at him with yearning. Castiel shakes his head.

“No.” he steps over Dean’s body.

“Well—what’s my purpose here?” comes the whining voice still on the carpet. “What do husbands _actually do other than wrestle on the bed?”_

“Busy yourself with the monitor, familiarize yourself with the city, go read books in my study, you have access there too.” Castiel crosses the stairs still feeling thoroughly annoyed. “

Dean sits up grouchily by the time Castiel reaches the top of the stairs.

“That’s not where I wanna go. I can still enter the bedroom—?”

Castiel laughs coldly that turns into a grimace and shuts himself in.

_“Not gonna happen.”_

* * *

He checks all the information reported from Galaxy XIV, with transparent aviator only seen with the coded wiring on the sides. He sits on his desk with three hologram monitors, all three supervising each part of his house.

He watches Dean for a few moments. The entire wall opposite the bed is focused on the man still sitting in the living room. He’s been watching Dean for over two hours now. The man has busied himself with the monitor, watching different shows without changing position. Ironically, he’s never approached the main door, nor Castiel’s door.

Castiel unconsciously presses a fingertip to his lips thoughtfully. He’s never understood how Dean can ever think of kissing him. No. He can’t understand why _he let Dean kiss him._ Finishing his routine exercise that morning, he was expecting more violence—the kind where Dean just attacks for the reason that he is Dean. He actually cancelled his new order of the glass galaxy, a limited edition made by the West tower, in fear of getting caught in the crossfire.

Little does he know it’d be a battle for a different thing. Not that he fears for himself. Dean doesn’t look like he’ll murder him in his sleep anymore but he can’t let his guard down. Dean just declared war. He doesn’t know how many minutes go by but the knock on his door surprises him. His eyes dart from the door to the screen of the living room on his wall. Dean is no longer sitting there.

Standing up, he walks to the door quietly, presses an index finger on the door’s surface. He finds Dean standing outside his door carrying a tray of coffee.

Castiel blinks and presses his whole palm on the surface to cancel all monitors inside the room then turns to open his door.

Dean’s face brightens up when their eyes locked again. Castiel swears he’s like one of those commercial kids that just light up when their parents come in view. Same reaction as of a dog. So yes, the man is growing on him despite their initial bout and later bickers that don’t have to do anything with the core command or the entire ring controls in general.

Just some common domestic fight. Castiel realizes they never really hated each other.

“Hey, Cas… uh… I got bored so I fiddled in your kitchen a bit, sorry. Here.”

Castiel pushes the door open to take the coffee. Giving Dean a narrowed look, he looks down at the cup with its dark contents and surprisingly detailed creamed design of a star. He looks up at Dean and still finds him beaming.

“Thank you,” Castiel says, still a little stung.

“I’m sorry.”

“For which one?” Castiel raises an eyebrow. It’s easy to get lost in the dancing nebula of green but he tells himself to stop losing his head. Dean’s brows contort a little.

“Uh… this morning… and over breakfast too… I said a lot it there… I didn’t mean to yell.”

“There was no need to yell, that is true. And you were expressing your thoughts. I do not see any problem with that, although it’s true there’s no reason to be angry at me. I’m not your enemy, Dean.”

Dean gives him a shrewd look behind the green nebula. “I know.”

“You do?” Castiel leans backs testily.

“Yeah.” Dean shrugs. “I mean… you’ve been kind to me since we met. I’m not an idiot, Cas. I know how to read people. Those douchebags who tortured me for weeks, I know straight up that they are douchebags. I also knew I’d get in trouble but I like seeing them lose their shit, you know? But with you… you’re different.”

“Not really. I’m still part of VOLTS.”

Dean falls silent. Castiel wants to press why Dean rarely falls silent. The guy he knows talks a lot in confidence, uncaring of their rings or how Castiel can fry him if he continued being annoying, except Castiel finds himself leaning less and less on the rings. Dean isn’t who initially thought he is. Rebel or not. He’s understanding it better.

“Have you ever tortured people, Cas?”

Castiel falls silent. It’s a description number one in being part of a paramilitary group. The green eyes narrow at him. He wonders if Dean thinks he will torture him in the future. That gets the Skywalker stiffening a little as he nods.

“I’m not averse to methodical measures if necessary. It’s a job.”

Dean nods. “I can tell that. My hands are not clean when it comes to intentionally harming people who are after those I’m protecting. Only because those people out there have no source of protection either… and now that I’m kept here… anyway, I know you don’t lie, Cas. Your eyes… too beautiful to lie.”

Something prickles in the pit of his stomach. Their eyes lock for who knows how long because Dean wouldn’t look away and Castiel understand if he pulled away, the man would rejoice for some reason—and he realized it’s a battle to dominate. He doesn’t understand the reeling current in his stomach, but much more than that, warning signs are beginning to rise of imminent danger.

“I’m not your enemy, but I’m neither on your side, Dean.” Castiel clarifies through gritted teeth. The trust expressed in the green begins to scare him. He wasn’t expecting to see that on their first day. And the worst part of it? He finds himself wanting to trust Dean, too. What is happening?

“You’re neither on their side, Cas.”

Castiel’s heart skips a beat. The conviction in Dean’s voice is palpable.

“What makes you say that?”

Dean shakes his head seriously. “I don’t think you’re on their side either. For starters, you’re also a victim here.”

“What?” Castiel snaps. He sees Dean flinch at the sound of his voice. He looks uncertain first, then the familiar tip of his tongue licks around his bottom lip before he takes a step forward.

“Look, I know you never wanted to be in this situation, Cas. I don’t even hold it against you anymore. I was gonna make it hell for you but then…” he swallows his words.

“What?” Castiel stays still.

“I… I think you’re not a bad guy.”

Castiel arches his eyebrows True, their whole relationship would not work if they keep basing it on the idea of two enemies. Castiel wonders how other officers from a Wedlocked union have made things work out before them. And if they too… someone began developing quick fondness over their charge. Because this guy… Castiel can’t put his finger it yet. There’s definitely something drawing him to Dean, from the moment he saw the man while he was watching from the skies.

_Dean Winchester._

His critical eye seems to make Dean uncomfortable. The man shifts on his feet, pretty green eyes going around, not meeting his.

“Anyway,” Dean scrubs his face with his palm, his cheeks burning, “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t like, alright? But I can’t promise you there won’t be an encounter when… you know… it’s hard to live in one place with someone….”

Castiel narrows his eyes. He would agree on this—

 _“Dangerous—?”_ he says at the same time Dean says—

“ _Hot_.”

Castiel’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh”

Dean stares back, suddenly frowning, his forehead furrowing like he forgot they are both from across enemy lines like it never crossed his mind at all before he is nodding at Castiel.

“Yeah, yeah…. _Dangerously hot.”_

Dean is… _flirting with him…_ Castiel tries not to seem bothered by it. The man has the confidence of a tiger in a lion’s den… But then again, aren’t they both in the same family? War? Battle? Dominance? It suddenly hits Castiel that this must be a battle of dominance and Dean is just standing there, grinning prettily like he’s not the most dangerous creature on earth.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

They lock eyes for a few more minutes, Castiel feeling the AC not doing its job the way Dean’s eyes gives him another once over but doesn’t find himself offended. Then he realizes he is holding his breath.

“Your coffee is cold,” Dean says with an exhale, almost glad to change the topic. His face couldn’t turn any redder. Castiel finds himself looking at the cup too. “I uh… I just wished I didn’t offend you enough that you, you know? Stay in your room and leave me alone here.” The man looks behind him to the large living room with the high ceiling. He turns back to Castiel looking a little pained. “It’s lonesome. I… I prefer it with the company.”

Castiel nods, touched by the sincerity welling from the sad green eyes. And for the first time, Castiel understands why the galaxy always seems to mesmerize him with its massive scale, and yet can’t help but feel sad at the same time.

Inside, it’s empty and _lonesome._

“I think that can be arranged.” Cas searches Dean’s eyes, gleaming in obvious happiness. “Dean, why are you doing this?”

Dean doesn’t shy away from his gaze. “Dunno… I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.”

Castiel closes his door quietly.

The last thing he needs is his heart pounding so hard against his chest he can barely hear himself breathe. This is the man he is supposed to live with for years? A blossoming warmth spreads through his chest. Castiel puts a hand there, while he tries to feel where the beating is coming from. It’s like having two hearts at once left and right.

And still not enough to understand what just happened between him and Dean.


	6. The Collapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And he catches him when he falls...

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Life changes drastically for the Skywalker and his notorious husband whose life goal it seems is to test Castiel's heart. These days he always wakes up early before the alarm and sunrise, always eager to find how he is not the only one excited for mornings and not the first one to paddle into the kitchen. Dean has mastered the components of the kitchen and now made it his special spot –aside from the couch which is his temporary bedroom—until Castiel gets comfortable enough to think of sleeping together. Which will not be anytime soon.

“This is pretty easy. Why does this thing look like it hasn’t been used for years?” Dean is saying one breakfast morning, on the third day. Castiel found him already tweaking inside the kitchen first thing in the morning.

“It’s because I haven’t been to this place for years. Skywalker, remember? Hello, Dean.”

Dean looks up and if his face doesn’t light the room. Castiel tries hard not to stare too much. Dean is reminding him of those vortexes sucking you in—a dead star—? No…

_Gravity like the sun._

“Hey, sunshine, I prepared coffee already, here—” One thing Dean has learned on his second day? Castiel’s always in a bad mood without coffee. The second day was just the two of them bickering the entire morning before they both realized they haven’t eaten breakfast. Now Dean is the master as he turns around wearing Castiel’s bee apron which makes Castiel snort a little. Dean was looking at him with the same bizarre expression on his face torn between amusement and— awestruck.

“What?” Castiel frowns moodily, stepping inside.

“Sex hair.” Dean grins, offering him coffee and sitting down on the adjacent chair, just staring at the jet-black bed hair while Castiel glares. Dean pulls himself from his stupor. “I really can’t find other utensils here, seriously, man, do you cook?”

Castiel casually walks in and stares at the table already filled with green food. He tilts his head in question but Dean is a distraction the way his eyes darts from Castiel's hair to Castiel's lips. And what the hell is _sex hair?_

“I don’t. Where did you get all this stuff? Are these actually— _leaves?”_

“Yeah.” Dean doesn’t look from the pan, “You told me I can buy stuff, right? I was browsing last night for something to cook—see outside, I’m the man of the soup. Yeah, we pillage empty towns and if we’re lucky, get tons of canned stuff from the Bin. Though, your Level-E is great in guarding their stuff. Anyway, I cook too. But unlike all these—we actually use fire, you know.”

“Too barbaric.” Castiel smirks. 

Dean falls silent for a second and its because he is staring too intently on Castiel's face like all the words of wonder are found there. Castiel clears his throat while trying to keep a straight face. Dean comes back smiling. “Yeah, but you can do real heat in your capsule, captain. It was pretty cold last night.”

“Was it?” Castiel severely. “I wonder who refused to wear their Bed-Suit? Someone stark naked while the sun rises on the South East?”

Dean grins. “I’m not comfortable with that jumpsuit, alright? Black and white? I mean, why not just make it one color?”

“It’s the base dress code for Paramilitary members, a traditional attire yes but you can always change the molecular design, I mean—” Castiel snaps his right finger and his suit changes virtually to a long dark suit wearing a trench coat.

Dean’s mouth drops open.

“You just have to use the brain interface, Dean.” Castiel explains, “This design is preloaded to my consciousness. It’s working on yours too since they um… they’ve attached you to the ring.”

Dean flicks and his clothes disappear, only leaving the apron. The amount of tanned skin and muscle—it feels like it’s been years since he last saw Dean naked after their wedding—and _how in Earthsea are those legs inordinately wrongly shaped!?_

Castiel chokes on his coffee. Dean makes an apologetic face then snaps his finger back.

“I thought I’d catch you naked, why is it me...” He says, blushing. “Sorry.”

“You can only control your own thoughts and... What is you obsession about..." Castiel exhales, cheeks flushing, "Nevermind... Not today, Dean.”

“There’s always tomorrow.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“No,” Cas sighs with the image not leaving his eyes. “Thank you, now I won’t be able to forget that for the rest of my life.”

“Well, it’s going to be fair if you show me yours.”

Castiel feels his face burn. 

“Stop it, Dean. I have to stay in the study room the entire afternoon for my lecture. I’m sorry, I won’t be able to sit with you and browse archaic movies today.”

“Aw that's a bummer," Dean leans on his hands. "I’m gonna miss you."

"It's within the walls of my study room," Castiel says patiently. 

Dean smiles at him, "But why the sudden lecture?”

“I have been informed of an increased number of participants in my D-Aeronautics class. I have been assigned by the Division to conduct a special lecture on Walkers 4.2 three times a week. That way I don’t have to report in the Head Quarters.”

They don’t talk about the fact that no one wants Castiel to leave the capsule for a month until Dean Winchester is regulated. Dean doesn’t say it either.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Dean says when he finally sits down, apron off.

Castiel looks at the untouched bread and begins to nibble. “You shouldn’t take it personally, Dean. It’s not you. I have been accustomed to eating a smaller amount for ten years in the outer space. That’s how we were trained at the Division Core.”

“That’s fucked,” Dean says a moment, then switches easily to looking genuinely curious. “How was it?”

Castiel thinks he can spend the entire morning just answering one question.

* * *

It took three sessions before Castiel was able to finish the lecture on space gamut with one hundred eyes watching him rotate in their mini hologram base. He didn’t get tired at all.

When talking about things he’s an expert in, time flows differently. By the time it’s over, he’s giving everyone key points and notes on what to study for their next meeting the next day.

He comes out of the study room after activating the reset button, turning the dark hallway into his simple study room to find the living room in the same dark state.

“Dean?” Castiel looks around, eyes scanning the outlines of the chairs, the tables until he notices a shaped head by the couch. He walks near it and snaps his finger.

There was light as bright as what was written on an old text, shedding clarity to whatever was happening on the couch—

He finds Dean wrestling with a container of cookies. The man looks up in shock—the jar pops open and all its content burst in the air onto Dean’s face.

Castiel is still chuckling when Dean sits beside him ten minutes later after a quick shower. He doesn’t complain, wearing the uncomfortable uniform.

Castiel doesn’t understand why Dean doesn’t like it—the suits are designed to be lightweight, barely felt on the skin at all.

“Quit laughing, Cas. More importantly why was the jar locked? What are you afraid of getting your cookies stolen?”

“Afraid of handsome rats nicking everything.”

Dean's eyes shine and it shamed everything any scenic walls can give. Castiel just wants to be close to him. 

“Oh? You think I’m handsome?” Dean sits beside him, when he does, he takes as much space beside Castiel so that their shoulders overlapping. Castiel doesn’t say anything. He’s in a pretty good mood after a thorough lecture, and then there’s Dean with cookie grain all over his chestnut hair.

He opens his eyes when Dean drapes a long arm over his shoulder, not really touching but just there by his nape so he ends up sliding onto Dean’s chest.

“Dean.” He starts, not really moving even though he finds the presence very warm. Much warmer than his elite suit.

“Hey, what kind of movies do you like? I’ll let you pick.”

“Why? I was enjoying all the cowboy garb,” he says sarcastically.

Dean ruffles his hair affectionately. Castiel scowls but Dean only clicks the control pad and the wall opposite them turns into a blank screen. The man flickers on the uploaded movies from centuries ago, not really bothering with the current ones have seen the difference.

“These movies are… so much alive even behind the glasses.” Dean murmurs, settling comfortably beside Castiel. “I’d prefer them than this junk I am in.”

“You’re not happy here,” Castiel notes watching the man choose a rather eyebrow-raising movie called _Titanic._ Dean doesn’t answer but he finally lets his arm touch the meat of Castiel’s shoulder blades.

The two are enraptured by the movie in the next 20 minutes. By the hour both of them are sitting so closely together, Castiel swears he can feel Dean swallowing hard every time the two characters meet in secret. And when the portrait was made—Dean is barely breathing when he turns his lips on Castiel’s right ear, hot breath sending ripples of excitement all over Castiel’s body.

“You’re my beautiful Rose,” Dean whispers, nosing the tip of the Skywalker’s ears.

“I’m Jack. My eyes are blue,” Castiel whispers back, exhaling. “You’re the fiery one with the red hair. Does look like you, honestly…”

“I’m the horny one.”

“Stop acting like a rabid animal in heat, Dean,” Castiel says, feeling Dean’s lips on his ear. He pushes Dean back and kicks him to the far end of the cushion with a poker face. “Keep coming at me, I’m going to kick where you want my touch the most.”

“You can do that?” Dean’s eyes flicker. He takes one Castiel’s feet and places it on top of his groin. It’s hard as the building tension on Castiel’s abdomen.

“Dean,” he says in warning. Despite this, Castiel can feel a bubble of heat rising on his face. He and Dean had been playing around for many days now. He doesn’t mind Dean anymore, like how I would mind a dog staring at him with puppy eyes asking for his bone.

Married or not, Castiel doesn’t think he’s ready for that. For one, Dean has expressed so thoroughly how much he is sincere about the whole marriage stuff. Apparently, trying to know Dean without preparation is a wrong move.

Dean is a cheater. A very charming, _irresistible cheate_ r and Castiel mostly finds himself drowning.

Dean pulls his attention back with spine shaking caress at the side of his heel.

“Dean.” Castiel grits his teeth but he doesn’t pull away.

“What… I’m just stroking.” Dean mutters, pulling his eyes back

Castiel feels Dean’s dick twitch once or twice, but that’s all it does. Dean wakes him up after the movie, even carrying him back to his room while Castiel sighs, his body too comfortable in Dean’s arms to care.

He’s sure Dean kisses his forehead at some point, even stays a little while on the edge of his bed. Castiel sighs in his sleep, half his brain idle, half his brain alert for the man’s next move but after a stroke of his hair, Dean leaves the room and shuts the door quietly.

It’d be nice if Dean had stayed a little more, he tells himself, before drifting into a very deep sleep, with him standing on a giant dick and more dicks.

_Dammit, Dean._

Castiel wakes up the next morning and expresses annoyance at his boner. He takes it out by exercising which must be a wrong step because when Dean finds him, the man all but double backs from his way to the kitchen.

Castiel ignores him as he uses the Spindle to change the view of his jogging. He’s now running up what was he formerly known as the _Great Wall_. It’s no longer on the map, but its length helps.

“Look at you,” Dean says, stopping just beside the running machine with a suggestive twinkle in his eyes, raking down Castiel who’s decided to be in spandex.

“You really need to, you know… you keep eating on the couch. You’ll soon become what they say, uh… potato pouch.” He squints. Dean grins at him.

“Excuse me, this body rocks.” He lingers for a moment, just staring at Castiel’s ass. The Skywalker shakes his head and points beside him.

“Use the other one. Race with me.”

“Oooh, cool. If I win, do we uh….” He blushes. Castiel tilts his head and sighs.

“Get on it, Dean!”

It takes practice for Dean before he gets used to the mechanism. Dean is a fast learner. The man prides himself on it as he tells Castiel new operating machines are nothing to him. Took them fifteen minutes before they are racing. 

“How do you pedal so fast? It’s not like aliens were actually running after you in all that galactic space, right?” Dean says when he and Castiel come out of the spindle machine, both soaking wet while wearing the virtual hood jackets after bicycle touring what they learned was the _Himalayas._ Castiel tells an awed Dean that this landmark is actually just metered beneath Division Core. The very mountain holding the brackets of the land. 

“Practice.”

“But you’ve been in space!” they walk together to the living room; Dean waits for him with a towel over his shoulder then lets Castiel walk pasts while drinking his energy drink.

“Dean, I owned your ass the first time you attacked me. You think that was done by sitting my ass in the pod the entire ten years?”

“Yeah, I was distracted during the fight alright?” Dean’s tone sounds a little playful and flirty _again,_ Castiel has no doubt the man is staring at his ass. It’s a common thing. He doesn’t even get offended. “Not my fault they made my husband so hot.”

Castiel rolls his eyes.

“Take a shower, Dean. Cool your head.”

There’s a grunt behind him about how Castiel must be an alien himself for not even getting affected when Dean’s got his ‘little boy so hard to tame’. Castiel doesn’t ask. There’s a bleep on the main info command. Castiel heads there with a smirk at Dean. A package was delivered on the email tube just by the door. He picks up the white envelope with the emblem of Core Command. When he opens it, he finds a bottle of black-white capsule pills labelled EYX-3000.

Castiel’s eyes widened.

_Dean Winchester._

He doesn't mention it to Dean. Then throws the capsule away in disgust. Blue eyes bright in anger, he makes a move to contact Balthazar when his husband raps his knuckles on a door upstairs.

“Hey, Cas! Shower together!” 

“I’m not stupid to fall for that, Winchester.”

* * *

Gabriel laughs loudly enough to draw attention from the neighboring table. Castiel quietly puts his cup down

“Let me get this straight— you actually gave your husband Rytes? How much?”

Castiel thought about telling his brother the truth. He doesn’t even know if Dean appreciates it when he offers the man the money. Rytes are transferred to his bank account even while in space but since he had no use for it, he’s accumulated wealth than he could need.

“Enough not to overindulge,” Castiel says as he sips coffee on a white cup. “He tells me he doesn’t need it but keeps insisting to buy boxes of pie from this shop instead.”

“Is that why you invited me here? I mean, you can do 3D production of everything he asks—you haven’t shown him that, have you?”

Castiel grimaces. “He’ll find out soon enough but for now…”

The brothers look around the quaint shop of the silver ceiling, tables and counter, but the rest is a picturesque view of the clean ocean on top of the clouds. Young women fall in line on the queue with patterned checked black and white clothing, chatting away and giggling. Some throwing looks over in their direction, but Castiel and his brother are too engaged.

“Dean will like this place. This is a pretty popular place for pastry. I like their products. The aroma surrounding everything pops out of the m-vessel powder.” Gabriel shrugs.

“How should I know. You’re the perfect husband. But I remember. I bought your cake here for your wedding too. I know you don’t have at sweet-tooth, but I was hoping you can use it to bait your new husband in case he is inclined. Looks like it worked.”

“More than you know.” Castiel sighs, ghosting his fingers on the rim of his cup, “Some time ago, Dean discovered the jar of cookies on the cupboard—he didn’t let it go when we watched that silly rodeo movie they salvaged from the archaic database. He’s always hungry for anything pastry. I haven’t shown him yet the 3D chocolates. I fear he’ll die of indigestion.”

“Oh, give him the glass potato chips and molecular popsicles. I bet he’ll die,” Gabriel snickers, “Sounds weird hearing about this notorious Dean Winchester being all so sweet. He’s really landed the mine when he fell in your charge. I mean, Cas, if Dean Winchester was given to someone like Azazel, asking for a second helping of food will get his hands cut.”

“I know.” Castiel sighs heavily. He doesn’t keep up with the news outside the walls of his house anymore, but he knows the against the rebels had been severe these days. They haven’t asked for footage of Dean’s tortured body—thinking about it makes Castiel want to vomit. Gabriel is watching him closely.

“You sure he’s not faking it just to get you off guard?”

Something bitter creeps inside his stomach.

“I don’t think he’s faking it, Gabe.”

“Really? But it’s only been a month and a half? You can’t claim to know the guy.” Gabe gives him that _look._ “Castiel, are you not telling me something?”

Cas keeps a straight face. “What?”

“You… and that guy… like… _do you like him? Does he like you?_ And don’t lie, I know the crazy wiggle-waggles of those eyebrows of yours. Last time you lied to me it was that application to aerospace. I only let it be because I trust you, you know I do. So, tell me—are you guys—?”

Castiel rolls his eyes. “No. He did kiss some week ago—?”

Gabriel sputters his coffee and chokes hard. Castiel hands him napkins with a prim grim.

“We did not do anything. I electrocuted him before he could regret his next moves, which I doubted. He was… he’s okay. He’s pretty thoughtful. Kept asking why I’m not eating in his presence.”

“Look at you. From Skywalker to officially lucky husband of the year. You’ve adjusted to married life. What else does he do on his own?”

“He’s found my Spindle.” Castiel smiles, recalling just three days ago how Dean found the virtual reality exercise manual where you can do physical routines in an environment of your own choice. “He stays in Flesh and Blood land. Somehow, he has no qualms seeing the contents but he acts like a baby when he prickles his fingers.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Don’t tell him I’m the one who developed the visuals for the guys or he won’t stop pestering me for the updated version. But Cassie, is this why you called me out here? To gush about how adorable your husband is?”

“I want to know about how his brother has been doing?”

The atmosphere changes at that. Gabriel eyes him gravely.

“Castiel. I already answered the last inquiry you made. I told you he’s been transferred to quarantine. The last footage I gave you is the only one I can spare. I have strict orders.”

“I know. And I haven’t told Dean.” Castiel slumps back his chair, the taste of the pastry no longer as appetizing as he last remembers. “But he’s been dreaming about the basement… and his brother.” Gabriel only gives him a look.

“Are you even making a report about how he’s all smitten with you? And are you sure he’s not playing it?”

Castiel bites in his sandwich. He lets himself enjoy it for a while, letting Gabriel’s eyes narrow just watching him. Castiel doesn’t answer. Reporting progress about Dean? Dean is no lab rat. It’s right to say he detests it. Still, he can’t tell his brother that.

“That’s what you think now, but I still rather you open your eyes, Cassie. Core Command’s eyes are on you. I know you _know._ But I ask you to still be careful. There’s a riot coming. I just wished it wasn’t you who was stuck with him. Especially now Alastair is on the move.”

Castiel quietly finishes his coffee.

“Is this about the plot the Core Commanders losing control?” he says in a low voice, earning a sharp look from his brother. Gabriel scans the vicinity and gives a slight nod. They weren’t supposed to talk about it.

“There’s a glitch in the system. And the three Commanders are already disputing about it. It pays to be alert, Cas.”

“You’re the one working in close quarters with them. _You_ be careful.”

“But eyes are on you. By the end of this month, you’ll see. Dean Winchester will be back to the center of attention.”

“I don’t think Dean is plotting anything. He only wants his brother’s safety,” Castiel laments, closing his eyes.

“And the drugs? Do you give him them?” Gabriel asks. Castiel’s face darkens.

“No.”

“So, what, you’re just going to be his babysitter now?”

“You know what those pills do, Gabe. An addiction like that doesn’t do good for anybody. You said so yourself and your team made it. They’ve been sending fifteen capsules a week. Fuck—a dosage of that in a day is deadly. What the hell are they thinking? They want to kill him?”

“That’s the idea.”

Castiel looks away. His food looks very unappealing now.

“I won’t subject him to anything like that." He doesn't tell Dean many things. Dean just needs to feel safe and protected inside the corners of their little home where Castiel's heart belongs.

Gabriel suddenly whistles. “You are directly disobeying them?”

“I followed the _Rings._ I’m doing nothing else except being a husband,” Castiel smiles. “You and I both know it’s messy up there. Why do you think I decided to pack my bags and live in space?”

Gabriel leans back in his chair. “They’re expecting improvement, Castiel. Soon they’ll be asking your husband to appear in public places in your uniform, get the two of you onto posters and show it around the Accordions. Get rebels doubting their commander.”

Nothing else registers to Castiel except the word husband. He thinks of Dean and his boyish grin and stupid jokes. Then it’s followed by Core Command who has not seen that, won’t see that. He presses his lips thoughtfully. He knows they’ll be knocking on his door sooner or later. If they see Dean still the same arrogant bastard they know, both of them will be subjected to question.

And then he won’t be able to protect Dean.

“Cassie…” Gabriel’s voice is sympathetic. “You… you’re not really…?”

Castiel meets his eyes and he sees the gravity of the things he’s been doing reflecting in his brother’s eyes. Gabriel tells him with one look how the Core Command will always be watching them, that sooner or later they will see what’s going on, and like the rest of the failed Wedlocked—though not many in their history—one of the rings will have to expire if the marriage doesn’t work out.

But that was the problem. He and Dean _aren't ‘not’ working out._ It’s entirely the opposite. So, what is wrong here?

* * *

It starts when he finds Dean sitting crossed-legged on the floor in front of the vision wall. He’s descending the stairs when he notices him fiddling with the communication pod absentmindedly. The table is clean with no trace of any drinks or snacks which is a bit odd. The virtual screen shows the skirts of the city walls. Castiel frowns.

“What are you doing, Dean?”

Dean looks behind him in surprise, then gestures back to the screen. Castiel stands just beside the man, both hands in his pocket.

“Oh. Just your… city.”

“I can see that. But why? Done with the scenic views?” Dean has been practically mesmerized by the old civilizations and the wonderful environment they used to have in Earthsea before half a billion people were wiped out and the natural course of other disasters occurred.

“They’re not real.” Says Dean quietly. “This is. Earthsea.”

Castiel presses his lips to close. The monitor responds to Dean’s voice and shows the world in its entirety. There’s nothing there except the dark sea and a piece of land atop a gigantic rod-shaped black stone holding it from the bottom like a thin metal plate. In the middle of the abandoned wreckage stands the mighty walls of Gated Division Core covered in a black glass dome protecting it from the radioactive surrounding. But it’s only a quarter of the entire island.

Castiel’s eyes fall on the rest of Earthsea. From the deserted spaces of nothing but sand to the small cities originally highly-advanced domicile, now abandoned far away from the core. Then the smaller buildings surrounding the exterior from which Dean and other people who have been considered contaminated remain until they take precedence to be taken in to stop insurgence. Like Dean.

Castiel sits beside Dean, hugging his knees and watching the scenes change from different angles of the city, showing more ruins, some swallowed by sand and others only showing the top of their own towers.

“How do you survive out there?” he finds himself asking in awe. He’s seen this place many times and has understood in theory how lives are kept, but it’s different to hear from someone with the experience.

“We don’t. We wing it."

Castiel hums. Dean clears his throat.

"Uh... there’s a reason people gather outside the walls. It shields a good 3 kilometer from the radioactive air. That’s why we hung around. The number of people that have gathered underground, those who don’t wish to be inside Division Core, those that were thrown out, criminals, thugs. It’s basically a riot out there.”

“I know.” Castiel looks down the floor. Petty criminals, those who broke the rules are sent out to fend for themselves. “It’s like building a prison wall that keeps the prisoners out.”

“Because it’s real hell outside.”

“Are there still kids out there?”

“Yeah.”

“We figured. The population density has grown according to the charts they keep in the Core Command. Do you have a kid—?”

“No. When my parents died in an accidental fire, me and my brother got each other. Then we were taken by the leader of the Resistance, Bobby Singer? Oh… I’m not supposed to tell you that.” Dean rubs his nose.

“We’ve been talking about things we’re not supposed to tell each other.” Castiel chuckles, “The weird thing is, they don’t hurt our job. But here I am sitting with the leader.”

“Did they expect you to get information from me?”

“They have many expectations from a guy who just returned from space. About some big plot, they know is happening but can figure out where it’ll come from. That’s why they took you in. They want to put a stop to outside resistance by plastering your face on the mood board.”

“I’m not the submissive type. And I’ll top, by the way.” He wiggles an eyebrow at Castiel who ignores him, but he feels Dean sitting closer. He ignores that too. Pressed together, Dean goes on, “My biggest plot is to have those women and children here, but they won’t fucking open the door. We’ve been trying to negotiate, communicate for years, but they won’t take anymore. Some crap about a virus spreading.”

“It is a virus. Gabriel led the research team outside two years ago, I think it lasted for half a year. I was still sky-bound but he gave me constant reports. I think that’s the only time he went past the Accordion.”

“The accordion what?”

They glance at each other. Castiel leans towards Dean, smiling.

“It’s what Gabriel calls the Walls. Though many prefer to call it The Hedge. As a kid, our parents used to warn us about going to The Hedge. No one can really go near the walls directly; I think you know that. It’s packed with VOLTS. But Gabriel never really listened so one day he decided to bring me there. We saw it. Huge and intimidating but there’s a hum that gets louder when you get closer. Gabriel figured out its electrical waves from the wall itself. There’s a reason they are called VOLTs, you know. So he calls it Accordion for our benefit. It’s also a paramilitary base, heavily guarded against the inside, we expect more from the outside and when I became a member of VOLTs, I was able to see the parameters of the wall. And it struck me how very limited the world we’re living in.”

“That why you went up there?”

Castiel nods gazing back at the scene. “One of the reasons. The other is because we know this world would not last. Not everyone understands that. People in the city live in ignorance of the fact that outside those walls, there’s nothing.”

“Only one way to go, right. That’s up.” Dean eyes the walls. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I let them take Sammy. They kept me in this cell for days and when they let me out, they told me Sammy’s going to be okay. That my brother has the virus and no one is allowed to see him. But they know your doctors won’t stop till they find a cure. If your brother is one of them, you tell me if they’re already experimenting with my brother, okay? They already made me promise not to do anything that’ll endanger Sammy’s life. And that’s what I’m fucking doing now. Behaving. Keeping my head in line. Sorry, you gotta get dragged in my mess. But I think I’m fucking lucky I married you, Cas. You… you showed me Sam was okay… you… you’re all I have here. You make this miserable imprisonment worthwhile. If things go wild out there, you’re the only person I’m going to protect. Cause if those guys do something to Sam, I swear to whoever’s in your Core Command, I’m going to destroy this place.”

Castiel doesn’t doubt that. It’s like keeping a dragon sleeping under his wing.

“And I think… I’ll do everything in my power to stop you, Dean.”

They both fall silent just watching the scene now rotate around the huge wall. Dean drops his head on his arms with a loud sigh so heavy, Castiel glances at him somberly. There’s a part of him that just wants to reach out and hold Dean, but there’s a part of him that also doubts this. He buries his face on his knees.

“Dean, do you want to go for a ride?”

* * *

Dean’s jaw drops. They are down the building’s underground to where the residents are keeping their transportation cube. The Cube Underground is basically an empty floor with nothing but circular glowing lights on the ceiling with a number. Castiel stopped around 707 and spoke activation codes. The circle above glowed, then two holographic cubes hover inside the cylindrical glowing light from the ceiling to the floor, one was black the other was golden. Dean’s eyes widened.

“We don’t usually use cube transportation as you already saw the construction of the buildings. Division Core is something of a nexus for the whole city. Connected by adjoining nodes, anyone can just ride the elevators. Except for the Towers which have their own spherical entrance, only people with authority are allowed to enter. Not that we’re going there, and I don’t particularly like cubes.”

“These cubes are transportation?” Dean says, ogling at the two cubes in midair.

“Yes, um, actually… one of them is for you.” Castiel looks down suddenly flustered at the quizzical look Dean is giving him, “I mean, it was supposed to be a wedding present in case you like driving around.”

In reality, Castiel can’t forget the picture of Dean in this old transportation vehicle with wheels. It’s not something you will see inside Division Core now. Dean remains looking at him so Castiel hastily taps the black cube to distract the man—and himself.

The cube shifts for a moment, and then glows and disappears. The light shifted and from the virtual cube came out a black car with a sharp hood and bottom trunk and lone white line by the door.

Dean’s eyes widened. “This—this is for me?”

Castiel clears his throat, he tries not to flush in embarrassment because he made Dean happy.

“Yes. It’s an Impala 5067.” Castiel says, watching Dean’s jaw drops as he goes around the car, admiring it with hands tracing the smooth surface. Castiel watches him in amusement. “I believe it was designed some 50 years back. I'm not sure you would like it but given-"

“Cas, it’s beautiful.” Bright green eyes meet Castiel, “I’ve never had… anything like this given to me… are you sure it’s mine? I can have it?”

“Yes. Even if you don’t accept it’s fully paid, anyway. Do what you like, but this car won’t support your radius limit, Dean. You’re still not allowed that far from me.”

“But if you’re with me? Can we cross that radius?”

Castiel blinks. “You can go anywhere you like within boundaries where I am allowed. The rings recognize my authority, of course.”

“Then what are we waiting for? Hop in, Cas!”

Dean’s excitement is stimulating that soon Castiel soon finds himself in the front seat.

“I’ll call her my Baby,” Dean says gleefully.

Castiel gives him a nasty look before touching the pod in the middle. “Print your ring here. It should work fine, it’s yours.”

“You’re really giving me this car?”

“Yes. Now hurry and stop asking the same question.”

Dean stops, but the grin that floods his face is enough for Castiel.

Soon Dean is driving passed Division Core and even reaches the narrow plane overlooking the wall. Castiel gives Dean a cautious look, but Dean only lingers and his eyes pass what he can see with a longing look. He doesn’t pry at Dean’s thoughts, only because he knows beyond the wall is the travesty of Division Core to mankind. He lets Dean stay quiet for a moment. Castiel quietly steps out of the car.

One step on the grassy ground, wind in his hair, Castiel remembers something. He begins prodding the trimmed grasses. He hears Dean closing the car behind him.

“Cas?” Dean follows him swiftly after finally snapping from a stupor.

“Remember when I told you Gabe used to bring me around here because of his fascination with the Accordion? Well, it’s also where I developed an interest with a meteorite.” Castiel says, kneeling on the ground, fingers sifting a stone and pressing it on his hand. “I still remember… I used to mistake metal oxides for meteorites when I got obsessed. It’s like this one,” he takes the rock back to Dean who opens his palms and weighs the cinder. It’s a rock with many holes. Castiel continues, “You have to take note of the vesicles. The holes and cavities pretty much tell you it’s not a meteorite. But I dream of finding one.” He looks pointedly up the blue sky created by the dome. “There’s a theory the Earth was hit by a large meteorite a long time ago, and I believe it did take out half the globe surface, but it’s still rare to find space rocks even for me.”

“But you’ve been to different planets, right?”

“I talk about the meteorites that fell from the sky, Dean. They burn, see. Before entering the atmosphere of Earthsea. Meteor showers were common to earth some centuries ago, but it’s the rarest we have here. We don’t have many samples of meteorites even in the lab, though we did take home a piece of an asteroid. But I’d rather have something that naturally fell…”

“Sounds like a dream,” Dean whispers behind him.

“It is.”

* * *

They stop at the pastry shop and the look on Dean's face is incredibly similar to some rising sun. A real _sun_. They enter the crowded shop. Castiel can’t believe how jam-packed it is and hesitates to move. Dean disappeared over the counter. Castiel inches away towards the door feeling sick, but he can't leave Dean. He knows the shop is not within the boundaries, but there's just no leaving Dean here, he tells his brain stubbornly while his body takes the flight mode.

Gritting his teeth, he stays on the elevated ground with glass railings. He clutches the railings until his knuckles are white. Panic seizes his body but ultimately, his mind controls his body when he asked it to calm down. He takes long breathes, then opens his eyes to the doorway where a group of people blocking his way when Dean comes back into view.

“Hey, what’s up? I found a good spot near the glass pane called Safari.”

Castiel grimaces. Of course, Dean would enjoy the wildlife. He shifts on his feet, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Are you okay?"

No, Castiel feels cold, the air is leaving his chest but he cannot tell Dean that. Instead, he tightens his hold on the railing. “Um… I’m just trying to figure out a way around so I don’t bump to people..." Find a way to escape.

“You don’t bump people, you squeeze through the middle, Cas.”

“Right.” Castiel nods, looking to his left, distractedly “I’ll just wait here then. Till the crowd disperses.”

“What?” Dean gawks at him. Castiel doesn't look back stubbornly. Last time there weren’t that many people—and when it did flood, he and Gabriel have secured seats far away from the counter. He didn't expect to be blocked so easily by the entrance. Maybe he should just leave—

“Cas—Cas, hey," firm grasp on his elbow and Dean pulls him back in concern. "Are you okay?"

Castiel gives him a dark look. Dean's mouth falls open. It's been a while since Castiel's mood has been tested.

"What's wrong? Don’t you like crowded places?”

Castiel doesn’t need to answer. The second he turns his head a wave of people suddenly enters the doorway. He hisses when he steps back, trapped between them and the glass railing. It’s a ping on his ears and the revulsion to escape creeps in his skin. Suddenly, breathing in the same space is impossible—how could all of them breathe all at once in such a cramped space?

Castiel squirms and breaths hard. There’s just no way there’s enough oxygen. He didn’t realize his aversion to the volume of people was that bad—vertigo sets in and he is falling.

Till Dean's strong arms grab him close. Dean pulls him and locks him into his arms, a hand protectively around the back of his head. Castiel's nose presses on Dean's chest while Dean manoeuvres their body so he covers Cas to the railing. Castiel closes his eyes as a rush of bodies goes past them, but there is Dean acting as his shield with his head pointedly looking at the crowd. He keeps Castiel there safe and protected.

It felt an eternity to the Skywalker.

“Let’s go,” Dean says when there’s a gap near the door forgetting his sweet while he drags Castiel out. He leads him outside and helps him into the car. Dean drives them back to their capsule. Castiel maintains his composure inside the elevator where he crosses his arms around him protectively. He pushes Dean away grouchily, tries to tell him he is fine but the man wouldn't let him be. Until they reach home, whereupon opening the door, Castiel finally blacks out.


	7. Unveiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is an angry man sometimes...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for the husband's complex dubcon!

[ ](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Everything around the beautiful world changed since the destruction, but one thing remained of the galaxy where the stars remained untouched. Earthsea still exists despite the many apocalypses that tried to sink. Castiel inhales sharply when he opens his blurry eyes. He finds himself staring at the brightness of the dark ceiling with stars above. He wonders why all that space is not designed for any living life. Humans will be like fish out of water there. Does it fear to be populated?

“Cas?”

Green nebula takes over space, deep in concern and aching love that makes Castiel smile. He doesn't remember much, but one thing certain is that Dean is here, kneeling beside the couch while Castiel blinks the dizziness away. Green eyes pour in him and he thinks it's the best headache-medicine there ever was. Except medicine comes with warm touches on his cheeks.

"Hey... hey, Cas..." Dean breathes like he doesn't know how to do it without dragging his insides out. Castiel blinks back at him.

_“Hello, Dean.”_

Dean strokes his cheeks with concern flickering behind his eyes.

“You scared me, what was that?” he helps Castiel sit down then tugs him back to lay his head down on his lap. “No, don’t get up yet."

Castiel does his best not to roll his eyes. "I'm fine, Dean."

"Look yourself in the mirror, you're like a dead man walking." Dean presses Castiel's chest down so they both staring each other in the eyes. Dean's face easily crumples in worry as he strokes Castiel's hair. "What happened?”

He's never seen Dean's eyes like that. Bright hot green in a galaxy region he hasn't explored burning and fusing with different emotions extremely fast. Dean is...

“Just a side effect of isolation for many years. And constant fear of exhausting oxygen.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing, Dean. I’m fine.” his throat feels dry. He takes a moment to inhale, Dean watching the movement of his chest.

"You're not," Dean scowls. "You shouldn’t try and get up."

"Dean, I'm not a kid. This is normal."

"Collapsing is normal? Since when? Do you have a medical history or something like that?"

Castiel closes his eyes just listening to Dean breathing on his face before he takes Dean’s hand and places it near his heart, feeling the warmth right there. 

"I’m fine. Why am I on the couch?”

“You said you prefer the couch than the bedroom. So much trust you have in me even when half awake." Dean smiles. "Am I that scary? You think I'll take advantage of my pretty husband?"

Castiel smiles. "You have no idea how I have to put up that wall to keep my chastity intact."

Dean laughs. He entwines their hards with a deep-set look in his green eyes screaming of fondness.

"Are you really okay?” Dean searches deep in his eyes, “Cas... don't push yourself too much okay? You break my heart if I see you hurt like that."

Castiel dismisses it although he can't deny how it made his heart swell. "Thank you, Dean. I'm really fine. I just... it takes awhile. Dealing with crowded places. It's not your fault." he hastily adds upon seeing the look on Dean's face.

"Cas, sorry I dragged your ass out there. You should have told me you hate crowded places.” He stops, looking guilty. “It just shows me how much I don’t know about you, Cas… I suck as a husband, huh?”

Castiel blinks slowly, “You’re okay. I'm sorry for being a burden..."

"You're really not but geez, you really know how to make a man's heart stop. And looking so beautiful while unconscious is illegal, man. What if I wasn't around then, huh? What would you do if someone else was there touching you all over-"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"That's it. You're not allowed to go out places without me. You understand?" Castiel's mouth drops open. And suddenly, their roles are reversed. Dean continues to scowl at him. "No, you're not allowed to collapse in another man's arms, you get that? You have a husband, catching you is my job."

He pinches Castiel's cheek, leaving a red mark until Castiel scowls back. "Stop that."

Dean laughs. "Lively now, eh? Good, that's good."

"You didn’t escape.” Castiel sighs, finding the words he was meaning to say.

A crease forms on Dean’s forehead.

“Escape? You think I’d leave you like that out there?” his fingertips trace Castiel’s cheekbones, the pout not leaving his lips. “You still think I don’t care for you?”

“I think you care a lot.” Castiel lets himself drown in the green, Dean is very handsome. “You care too much about other people… your brother… maybe me.”

Dean's stare is penetrating. “You sizing up my big heart, baby? I'm not that complicated." saying so, his eyes fall on Castiel's lips. The look on his face becomes intense when he meets Castiel's eyes. Asking. Wondering. Castiel tries not to melt at the look of want in his husband's eyes. He has to remember now that Dean looks really handsome staring at him that closely. His freckles splatters across his face are bright against his reddening cheeks. He eyes Dean's lips too, his heart racing. Castiel knows he wants it. 

“All I’m saying is, it’s because you care a lot that you are in this position, Dean... If you were the heartless godless, fearless leader of those Resistors, I wouldn’t have thought twice of throwing you around every day.” 

“I wouldn't mind getting pinned on the floor again, I never forgot,” Dean smiles. His gaze suddenly becomes so intense, fingers lightly trailing along Castiel's jaw, seemingly mesmerized with Castiel who had no qualms staring at Dean too. They make it a contest sometimes, of who will look away first. Always a draw. 

“You didn’t leave because you still care, but someday it’s because you have that heart that you will go… because it’s who you are, Dean. So please… don’t confuse me.”

Dean frowns. His runs his other hand on Castiel’s hair then gently rubs it around the Skywalker's temple, easing away any contortion of eyebrows there, making Castiel's headache disappear and for his stomach to flutter. Dean's other hand cups his chin, making circular rubbing with his thumb. Dean is framing his face, and he stares so intensely.

“Cas...You say I’m gonna leave you?”

Castiel closes his eyes. He tries not to think of it but it’s an inevitable truth. Dean strokes his lips with his thumb. Castiel melts at the touch. He tries to relax his body but the pounding of his heart is a lost cost. Dean has him by his thumb and he continues falling.

"You are, Dean. It's the will of the rings that bind us."

“I’m not leaving,” Dean says when Castiel opens his eyes, there is Dean, sun-kissed spots under his lashes, Dean’s soft lips pressing on his. Dean kisses him. Castiel tenses for a second, his mind a jumble of the rings, and Dean and their positions but Dean makes him forget the way his mouth is goading his to open up. Castiel doesn’t pull away. It's long overdue, this. He sighs into the kiss, mellow and gentle as Dean 

Dean pulls up a little, his eyes shining. He plants more chaste kisses then whispers in Castiel's ear.

“I really do… care for you, Cas. If you still insist it’s the rings, I’ll rip out my finger..."

Castiel smiles. “You believe what you have to, Dean.”

They gaze at each is pure longing, the walls still a scene of the galaxy. Dean leans down. Castiel waits but this time he is ready.

A brush of soft lips and Dean's tongue moving in his mouth, tasting corners until Castiel meets his.

Dean grunts and leans deeper, slipping his tongue inside to taste the roof of his mouth, the softness of the insides of his cheeks. Dean takes everything and when they pull, their faces are as bright as the sunset, as hot as molten lava. 

Dean keeps running his thumb in Castiel's lips, hungry for more. Just when Castiel's heart is thundering, just when he thinks Dean will ask for more, the man smiles at him. "Don't look so terrified, husband... I'm not... at least, not today... you're tired. I want you to rest."

They don't move. They don't gaze away until Dean fixes himself on the couch too, lying horizontally he drapes an arm to his husband. Dean drags one leg over Castiel. The Skywalker fully braces the hard bulge in Dean's front in his thighs. Castiel flushes. Dean smiles.

"Yeah, that's you, Cas." he kisses Castiel's forehead lightly. "You want to sleep?"

"If I can..." Castiel shifts a little closer, forehead under Dean's chin. It is comfortable and he doesn't mind Dean's erection any more than he minds Dean's hands sliding down the small of his back. This is the closest they have been since their marriage and suffice to say, it makes Castiel happy.

“If you can't sleep, why not tell me more about days in the sky, Cas…” Dean says, his free hand not leaving Castiel’s hair. “I want to know more…”

“It's not that exciting. ” Castiel closes his eyes, listening to the drumming sound of Dean's heart, the rumble movement in his throat. Dean snorts but doesn’t get aggressive about the topic. 

“Aw, come on, you know everything about me.”

“I don’t,” Castiel deflects.

“Yes, you do, you watch me fight, Cas…they gave you all my classifieds, I bet.”

“I did that for research.”

Dean beams. “I know. You watchin’ up there thinking ‘I wanna marry that guy someday…’ I must be a real catch for you.”

Castiel hums on Dean's skin and lets the tension leave his body where he falls asleep in Dean's secured arms.

* * *

“Cas.”

Castiel opens his eyes. They are still on the couch but something is different. For one, Castiel can feel his own erection pressing against Dean. He gazes up, heat rising up in his face and finds Dean staring at him intensely. It doesn't help that Dean is there in his fantasy dream that includes the man's lips all over his body.

Castiel swallows hard. That's all Dean needs when he pushes Castiel on his back and crawls on top of him. Castiel's hear summersaults. He doesn’t stop him when Dean leans down, hot breath brushing on his upper lip. He can smell Dean’s coffee and all the sweets he's been indulging himself with. Dean smells good, so warm and burning. 

“You have this weird obsession of wanting to kill me, Dean.” He reprimands after the burning kiss.

Dean smiles and presses their lips together again. The moisture of his lips gets Castiel drawing up closer to Dean, his hands suspended on the man’s broad shoulders as he lets Dean take control. The sweet kiss takes a pause, Dean pulling away to thumb the wetness he left on Castiel's swollen lips. Castiel breathes in his mouth when Dean pulls him in to brush their lips. Castiel gazes deep in Dean's eyes, sweet kisses upon their lips. The paramilitary should see how he lets Dean suck on his lips, how Dean takes the breath out of him as he cards large hands around the frame of Castiel’s face, wipes his thumbs on Castiel’s open lips and kisses the life out of him.

Castiel’s head blanks out. All his body can focus on is Dean’s hands roaming around his chest, popping his buttons open and sliding both hands to push down his shirt.

Castiel’s eyes flicker and he takes Dean’s face and kisses him soundly. They make out for a long time, Dean finally straddling Castiel’s lap and kissing him till their mouths are swollen, their front hard. Castiel can’t help staring at the shape of Dean’s cock pressing down on his stomach. He was never averse to these… the thought of Dean kissing him was a dream come true. He can’t ask that of Dean, Dean needs to take it from him because Castiel already knows what the city has taken from Dean.

They suddenly look at each other in question and permission but all Castiel can do is to stare open-mouthed at Dean, telling himself again he will not take anything from Dean that Dean would not like to give. Dean has a different idea, though. He clears Castiel’s thoughts when he hastily palms Castiel above the fabric of his pants.

“Dean—” Castiel breathes, hand stopping Dean. Dean’s eyes gleam. He leans down.

"Why are you so cute?"

"Shut it."

Dean nibbles on Castiel’s lips, then kisses his jaw, trailing down his chin. Castiel hisses.

“ _Husband,_ ” Dean whispers, licking on his neck, nipping down the curve of his collar bone while Dean’s hand strokes him on top of his pants. A soft moan escapes Castiel. Dean sets his body on fire. Castiel had never been touched by anyone, Dean may not be his first kiss… but he’s never been with anyone.

“Unfair. I want too…” Castiel breathes, closing his eyes in anticipation when Dean slides down the couch between his knees to pull his pants down. Castiel hisses when Dean’s knuckles graze on his cock. His heart rams against his chest. “Dean…”

Dean smiles, lips ghosting the underside of his groin. “If you suddenly like sucking me too, I’d never say no anytime, babe…”

_Babe… such an intimate name._

His body is on fire. The moment Dean kisses the tip of his cock, Castiel loses it. His hands shoot to Dean’s head to pull him up but Dean won’t leave. Dean is busy getting him hard with his tongue. Castiel swallows and tries to regulate his breathing but Dean won’t let him. Dean who bobs his head until Castiel is gripping his hair tight. Until Castiel is trembling from head to foot and moaning at his release.

Dean’s mouth is hot and filled when he looks up down at Castiel with dribbles of white on his beautiful lips. Castiel panics—they didn’t prepare for this. He doesn’t have the proper equipment to get Dean cleaned.

“Dean, I’m sorry—” he tries to stand up but his knees easily give away to the recent experiment it had been subjected to—but Dean only stands and the way he towers over Castiel is intimidating. Broad shoulders, tight muscles along the pajamas showcasing the shape of his hard length all. Castiel is about to ask if he should suck Dean too when the man pushes him down the couch and instead of pulling Castiel’s clothes away, he settles down by wrapping both arms around Cas. He arranges their body so Castiel is practically between his legs.

And Castiel is still distracted by Dean’s cock hard and throbbing between them.

“Dean, do you want me to…?” he tries to wriggle free from Dean. The broad shoulders tighten around him. They snuggle closer on the couch, Dean trapping him between his chest and the back of the chair. Castiel doesn’t care, he wants to reach for Dean’s cock.

“Shh…leave it. You’re tired.” Dean kisses his cheeks and swipes it because Castiel frowns at him. He knows exactly where Dean’s lips came from. They look at each other from such close proximity, Castiel getting too close enough to count Dean’s freckles. Their bodies are so warm.

“But you’re still hard,” He comments quietly after five minutes and Dean’s cock still throbs against his stomach. Castiel knows he must be red because Dean looks down at him and smiles.

“It’s your fault, you’re so damn hot, you keep me excited.” Dean shoves his face on Castiel’s cheeks. They’re both flames under each other’s touch. Warmth tickles Castiel’s insides. He slips his arms around Dean’s torso and sighs.

“As long as you're happy.”

“Oh? So, you know how to sweet talk?”

“I thought you wanted me to rest? You are aggravating me, Dean.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry…”

Castiel sighs again, lips pressing on Dean’s.

“Every time I want to turn you on, let’s talk about the stars. Damn, you're so... _hot."_

Castiel grunts in agreement. If he was excited talking about the galaxy before, it’s nothing compared to how Dean plans to raise the innuendo every time he gets the chance to terribly excite him. Maybe something is wrong with him. Maybe it’s being husbands. One thing is certain, the heat in his body like there are multiple suns lighting him from the inside is real. And it’s because of Dean.

They snuggle closely, Dean wrapping his arms around Castiel, sighing on his hair with bodies pressed together. Dean is hard against him, Castiel wants to do something about that but it seems Dean is satisfied to rub against his thigh.

Castiel runs his fingers behind Dean’s sweaty hair in silence. And if after a while, Dean gets up to finally shed the final pieces of their clothes on the floor and get on top of him, he wouldn’t blame Dean.

After all, there seems to be only one thing needs to know to live by. That his Castiel is hot. That is no secret.

* * *

Their first intimate encounter opens up too many others. Kisses in the morning, kisses in the middle and after every movie. Castiel doesn’t want to think of it as Dean distracting himself from the loss of news from his brother, but being with him, Castiel seems to keep Dean happy. Castiel notices that. The way Dean is always hungry to touch him.

Dean isn’t particularly shy when it comes to his wants, Castiel notes. The lingering touches of the man on his skin isn’t unwelcomed. Castiel is drawn to Dean’s warmth and not just his body, it’s _Dean_.

He comes to know Dean every day from sharing sunrises bickering about mundane things like who left the spindle on or left the cookie jar open (it’s always Dean). But they always end in each other’s arms after a long movie with a kiss on the forehead or complete make-out sessions. Most days Castiel rather stays with Dean on the couch than anywhere else in the household.

He’s been thinking of inviting Dean to his bed but every time he opens his mouth for the invitation, he is stuck off the boldness of it. He knows Dean will take him, been waiting for it. Castiel knows from the way their eyes look too deep, the way their kisses turn body heats into the fiery fire, that he is wanted. Dean’s longing is Castiel’s absolution from what the society has made of them.

Yet, every time Castiel touches the ring in his finger, he is reminded painfully that Dean will leave, eventually. That Dean being here is not a choice. Castiel wants to set him free but doing so will be forfeiting Dean’s life. Core Command will kill him. The only thing between Dean’s instant death or torture is Castiel’s misleading reports of abuse. Core Command doesn’t suspect him. 

So, he keeps Dean here, safe and sound, where they made a little home. Where Dean is untouchable.

Let the world collapse.

Yet there are days when Dean looks at him with something akin to sadness. Dean never mentioned Sam again but behind those green eyes is _fear and anger_ kept shut in silence. Castiel sees Dean scratching his ring once with a dark look in his eyes. Castiel wonders if Dean figured it out too. That maybe he is forgetting something important beyond the walls of their house. The meaning of the four walls and their rings— an equivalent of prison and chains, Castiel as his keeper. That Core Command has won, Dean Winchester is retrained from his terroristic activities with Castiel as their weapon.

They don’t talk about it but it sometimes hangs sourly in the air. Castiel sees it no matter how much Dean conceals. Doubt, anger. Not directed at Castiel but no other place to go. So, Dean kisses him, softly, angrily at times where the man doesn’t know what to believe, he kisses Castiel. Castiel holds him assumingly. Makes Dean forget. Makes himself forget. That this is ending soon.

It’s an afternoon like any other. He just finished his run on the spindle when he turns from the machine and finds Dean eyeing him from the doorway of the room. Castiel wipes his sweat with a towel hanging over his shoulder and stares equally back.

“Dean?”

Dean studies him carefully with green eyes darkening. Castiel tenses but doesn't falter. It's one of Dean's mood, he tells himself, where Dean is in the middle of weighing the circumstance. Of someone not knowing who to blame. He doesn't blame Castiel, at least not aloud. Castiel sometimes forgets how he and Dean are forgetting the giant elephant in the room. How having only each other both makes them vulnerable to the pain of not clearing it out.

Husbands or enemies. What are they?

So when Dean takes a step toward him, Castiel only meets his eyes steadily. Dean is not going to scare him. Dean stands in front of him and runs his hand immediately over Castiel's sides. Fingers digging. Still, Castiel meets his intense gaze.

"What's wrong-?"

Dean doesn't speak. Castiel waits until he thinks Dean wants to melt him with his gaze. The man licks his lips, hard eyes not leaving Castiels as pushes him a little back. It's none threatening otherwise Castiel would have smack Dean in the head. But something about the man's hungry eyes cuts him deep. Dean tightens his fingers holding Castiel's waist. 

"You look good," Dean says, biting his lips with eyes flickering from Castiel's mouth to the thin fabric of his sports gear. Castiel watches Dean warily. It's clear what Dean wants, but if possible, he prefers Dean in a better mood. Dean's eyes flicker hungrily over his lips.

"Dean, are you okay?"

Dean makes a noise in his throat and keeps pushing Castiel until he feels the wall press his back. He opens his mouth to call Dean only red lips crush on his own while Dean drags their hips together. Castiel gasps at the contact, Dean groaning in his mouth. He drags sharp teeth on Castiel's lips and presses hungrily for more.

Castiel catches Dean's arm and holds him tight, letting the lump in his throat wash away with the intensity of Dean's feelings be it love or anger. But this is not how he wanted it. Dean grinds against him and he can't help moaning. His body is still sensitive from his morning exercise, and the way Dean is rough and angry...

"Dean..." Castiel says when Dean's mouth leaves to scatter kisses on his neck. "Dean, wait..."

Dean crowds him even more, hard cock pressing against him. "I need you now." he breathes in Castiel's ears frantically. Castiel swallows and lets Dean drag his mouth over his sweaty neck, to the crook and collar up to his chin. His large hands press too hard

"You're not..." Castiel opens his mouth. Dean drags his tongue and suckles his bottom lip to the point of pain. Castiel pushes Dean really hard. "Stop it."

Dean tackles him back, knocking the air off Castiel's chest. Castiel's heart races erratically as Dean begins pulling on his clothes. Dean traps him in his arms, grinds their hips again. Castiel thinks of the ring. Thinks of how easily Castiel cups Dean's face

"Dean... Dean."

The green eyes focus on him. Castiel sees the broken man hiding behind the eyes resurfacing and it hurt him. He can decide to break Dean too. Or break with him. Castiel calms Dean by staring him down and to his credit, the frantic hands clutching his sides stop pulling. Their lips already swollen, Castiel wipes the tears on Dean's cheeks as he frames Dean's hard face in his hands.

Dean swallows but Castiel got him.

 _"Please, please... don't get mad..."_ he hears Dean say.

"I'm not..." Castiel's eyes flicker towards Dean's mouth. He makes a decision quick, but it should not be something that will hurt Dean once it's over. He protects Dean from Core Command. He can protect Dean against himself too. "I want this, Dean... but... if you're going to regret this later... if you're going to be a pain in the ass later and doesn't believe I want it too, I'd rather knock you down now than let you get what you want."

They gaze at each other for a long while. Dean nods, tears welling in his eyes. Dean wipes the blood on the corner of Castiel's lips and drops his head on Castiel's shoulder, his body trembling. Castiel holds him. He closes his eyes and exhales hard.

Dean is saved. Dean can be saved.

Castiel kisses him sweet and long. The scenic glass wall behind him begins to paint the black walls with streaks of gold. Dean still takes control when he kneels in front of Castiel and sucks him down with the Skywalker shivering under Dean's skilful mouth. Then Dean kisses him hot and raw, with intent, not frantic, but full. When he flips Castiel to face the wall and works behind him with his mouth, Castiel moans is sweet and breathless. This is how he wants it. Both he and Dean want it.

When Dean presses behind him, sinking his cock deep in Castiel, moving hard and slow as the sun fully rises. Their skin flush and turn golden upon the rays, pressing closer till there's no space against each other amidst the obscene noises of skin slapping on the skin till Dean's body stills and takes one final push before he comes inside Castiel.

The room fills with their voices. Castiel wishes he could see Dean behind him, Dean's expression with his cock inside Castiel. They stay like that for a few moments, Dean kissing his shoulder blades, murmuring praises for his husband. And when Dean turns him and they kiss, Castiel believes there is something unbreakable between them.

"Come to bed," he whispers. Dean smiles a little brighter than the sun.

* * *

They shared the bed a long time ago but it doesn’t seem enough to keep the man’s hands off him. Castiel comes to the conclusion heat when he gets tackled outside the hallway after a long day of lectures. He comes out and Dean pounces on him, pinning him by the shoulder crashing their lips together their teeth clack and the surge of pain gets Castel smacking Dean at the back of his head.

“Quit it, are you a caveman?” he pushes Dean off and straightens his uniform. It’s not the first time. It was exciting, he gives Dean that, the impulsiveness, the whole not knowing where it would come from and knowing he would let it, but he was tired and a little pained

Dean just stares at him longingly. Castiel rolls his eyes and walks to the kitchen, Dean following him, almost bumping behind him.

“Dean.” Castiel is a little concerned he may have awoken something in his husband that may be irreversible. But Dean is safe and happy. It’s a fact that Dean is usually horny. But it hits Castiel one day about how Dean’s touches are always lingering. That Dean’s touches are always desperate. Dean always wants to be inside him. Like Dean is chasing something… like Dean is afraid he will lose him.

Castiel stops resisting. Dean pulls him closer to his body, chin digging on the crook of his neck.

“Dean…” his body shivers. He tried to push him away but Dean holds on his shoulders tight.

"Please... Cas, just for tonight... I know why you're hesitating... because you still think we’re enemies, _”_ Dean tells him and he looks so heartbroken and desperate. "I don’t care about that anymore.”

Castiel swallows the lump in his throat as Dean kisses him, setting his insides in a wildfire.

That their happiness is hanging in the balance… that it wouldn’t last after all…

He lets Dean command him in their room. Lets Dean makes love to him with their hands entwining. Dean is both brutal and gentle and, Castiel knows Dean’s feeling for him even when neither speaks of it.

Still, as days stretch and the two of them find the days a blur, living in happiness, Castiel wonders quietly how Dean can see this disappearing between their eyes. He wonders too what he would do should Dean ask…

But for the moment, they are both happy.

“Cas, what would you do if I ask you to come with me?”

The question hangs in the air, stealing Castiel’s breath and bringing about the feeling of joy and sadness at the same time. Sadness because Castiel knows it would put both of them in danger. Subversion in Division Core is not treated well, more so from a paramilitary officer like himself. There are things out there that Core Command hides from the bowels of the Towers. Something only the top commanders know…the scientists have been working on, even Gabriel keeps his mouth sealed about it.

Then happiness because Dean finally asks him the question, they both know can change everything. That Dean has stopped to think of a world where he doesn’t leave Castiel behind. He imagines their marriage vows during the WEDLOCKED.... how it’s everything he despises… everything he hates getting shackled to someone he doesn’t even know. Then Dean became more than the stranger he sees to the monitor. Dean became more than just the man he had to share the curse of their wedding vows.

Along the way, part of Castiel understood that in the course of their partnership, it’s either he suffers from Dean or makes it work for them. Dean Winchester was just the man whose existence spites Castiel from the beginning. Dean oddly enough shapes his own character and rubs them off to Castiel who begins to sympathize at first, until Dean becomes the center of his life. Dean didn’t make it easy at all, but with him now inside Dean’s arms, Castiel thinks it was worth it.

“Cas?” Dean calls him back with a swift run of his hands on Castiel’s chest. Castiel sighs at his touch. It’s too early to belittle Core Command's Four Kings. From Lucifer… Raphael, and then there’s Michael. The Fourth King, they don't name him. Most believed it's a god, someone in charge beneath the ground, but no one knows what or who it is. Some believed he is dead and the three kings killed him. But among the four, it's Michael who Castiel fears.

Michael the older of the siblings, Michael who ascended as Chief Commander after the original makers who made Division Core possible. The man who fears no god. The man who even Gabriel doesn’t speak about. Castiel doesn’t want to face Michael at all, nor his wrath, VOLTS at his command who can eradicate Dean and his men in a snap of his fingers. He wonders if Dean knows about Michael. Of course, he does, they just don’t talk about it.

But Dean’s proposal? To think of getting thrown out of Division Core is a light way to put it if they can even escape the Gates. If they can even reach that far. Castiel touches his ring.

“Do you know the power of these rings, Dean? Why do they attach you to us?”

“Mmm?”

Castiel shifts from Dean’s hold until he is comfortably snuggled by his husband’s chest, hands pinned between them, eyes on each other

“I won’t tell you if you’re going to call me asap.”

Dean wrinkles his forehead. “There’s actually a reason behind these rings that would make me say it's sappy and not sadistic type thing?”

Castiel smiles. He traces Dean’s lips carefully with the tip of his hands. Dean’s lips remain sweet no matter the many times he has kissed them.

“Well, marriage is a sacred union between husband and wife.”

“Good, you’re my wife.”

Castiel pinches the bulk of his arm but rubs the red spot gently as he rests his chin in the middle of Dean’s chest. “Weddings by tradition do require rings but many nonconformists saw wedding bands as a shackle and they banned the use of this paraphernalia to any ceremonies.”

“That’s funny.” Dean leans to kiss his lips playfully. “There is resistance already from hundred years ago not liking the rings? Can’t say I blame them… not that I got the bad…” Dean is the worst when it comes to listening. He nibbles Castiel’s earlobe with wet kisses distracting enough Castiel forgets his next words. He sighs. Dean’s stubbles graze his cheek as Dean pushes him on his back, determined to keep that ear red.

“Dean…” Castiel gives a shuddering breath.

“I’m listening, babe…”

Castiel sighs, “Well…. They view marriage as a contract between people. A binding oath.”

“Isn’t it?”

“Oh, it is. But to think they’ve been chaining people from hundreds of years to each other…”

“Damn, stop overthinking.” Dean plants a noisy kiss on his forehead. “Who cares what they did? They did it for whatever reasons, but it’s done. We’re here… and locked or not, you know… this is much more than us with rings…” he touches Castiel’s ring finger. “Whatever twisted society ordered that a married couple should torture each other should go burn. It’s not that… I don’t think that’s what weddings are meant after all.”

Castiel listens to Dean quietly and nods.

“If I go with you…” Castiel finally whispers while Dean runs his calloused fingers idly by the jutting corner of Castiel’s hip bones. “Where would we go? There are not many pieces of land to go… and outside is dangerous.”

Dean is silent. Castiel can already read Dean’s mind wanting to say _“We can stay here in a New World.”_ But that would entail the destruction of Core Command which something Castiel cannot let happen. So he waits for Dean to finish, knowing it would be the same argument between them that would come to an impasse. Dean still believes in the New Earthsea. All Castiel can do is be the protector of his land where his family and friends live. He has sworn an oath and he will keep it to his grave. Castiel can’t abandon them.

He can’t afford to be selfish.

But Castiel doesn’t feel like arguing with Dean tonight either. The way Dean hesitates, he supposes Den doesn’t want to leave his arms too so they stay quiet.

This peace they hold between? Such a fragile thing they hold. Castiel knows it’s a lie but he still wants to hold on, hoping Dean would stop pursuing his goals. Then again… what was he to Dean from the beginning? Dean will leave… and Castiel will lose everything… Dean or Division Core.

Dean kisses the outline of his shoulders instead. Castiel knows he must’ve stiffened while in deep thoughts. Castiel welcomes his touches.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, capturing Castiel’s lips again.

Castiel wishes to keep their little world even for a little bit more. He wants to tell Dean to stop, wants to tell Dean about the things they will lose even though Dean is aware of them. But Dean is still fighting. And Castiel keeps falling as they make love again

He wished Dean would choose to stay.

His worst fears come in fruition at the last message he received from Gabriel the next day. The message he received was a little strange. They were documents of an experiment in the Underground that his brother was in charge. Why would Gabriel be sending him…

No, this was not from Gabriel… they are from _Gabriel._ Frowning Castiel flicks the screen to see it was the profile of all the Resistors that had gone under the hands of the research team. Did Gabriel send it to him so he can tell Dean about Sam? Then why give the whole file—?

Castiel’s eyes widen when he reads the content page by page. All the people on the list are reported to be dead. He quickly browses, hoping against all hope that the name is not there. Maybe Gabriel…

His stomach turns upon finding Sam’s profile and it is that instant that Castiel knows he and Dean are over.

_Sam Winchester: Deceased._


	8. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lies and betrayal destroy everything. Nothing a little care can't fix!

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Castiel stares at the message, momentarily numb. Raphael may be the one behind it, but Division 0 has ceased its operations along time ago. It doesn't bode well for the mysterious Division to appear now. And certainly not under the circumstances where Sam Winchester's status is revealed. Questions run in his head one after another.

Is Gabriel in trouble? Is this his attempt to tell Castiel the secrets of the underground lab? What of Division 0?

More importantly, if Castiel cannot keep his position, then he cannot keep Dean safe. If Raphael suspects him of anything related to Dean's activities then things will escalate out of his hands, Dean will be taken and executed in public while he, Castiel either gets thrown in prison tower or get cast out of Discordia.

Castiel tells himself to calm down. He cannot work without solid information.

Shaking himself out of reverie, he contacts Gabriel first in the privacy of his study room away from Dean who’s already watching another classic movie in the living room. Fear lulls at the back of his mind. He checks the other corresponding papers sent in his email. Gabriel says Sam was okay… Sam was in recovery… what now? Fifteen minutes later and still no response, Castiel gratingly exits the study room to join Dean only to find the living room empty. Castiel’s heart skips a beat. He sees his room wide open.

“Dean—!” He runs to his room to find Dean staring at the starry screen on the wall with both his hands jammed deep in his pockets. He turns with eyebrows arching upon seeing Castiel enter the room, huffing and flustered.

_Did Dean see…?_

Dean’s eyes are evergreen. He smiles easily at Castiel.

“Problem, Cas?” he frowns next, “Why is like that?”

“Dean, you’re not supposed to—" Castiel tries not to look both guilty and annoyed. He crosses the room in three strides and is in front of Dean in no time, “I told you to wait for me."

“You were too long.” Dean complains, “Are you done talking with Gabriel?”

Castiel avoids his eyes.

“No, he... he's unavailable. I think I have to meet him in person.”

“What? Why?” Dean steps closer and runs his hands on either side of Castiel's arm. Looking deep in his eyes, Castiel is certain Dean he hasn’t found out about Sam. A flash of fear crosses his mind and he clutches Dean’s arms before he can stop himself.

Should he tell Dean now? Dean has the right to know that his brother is dead.

Castiel can’t lie to him forever… Dean trusts him.

“Cas?” Dean peers down at him in concern, “Cas, what’s wrong?”

Castiel hesitates. The chances of Dean running amok in the city where not even Castiel stops him is possible now. And it hurts him to think that a single file, a piece of information ca destroy what he and Dean built in three months. But then his fear confirms how fragile their relationship is. Ring or no ring, when you destroy what binds you, everything else crashes to the ground.

In here means trust.

“I’m fine.” He lies, “It’s something about the hovercraft that will assist the shuttle of the Skywalkers next month.”

It's half true. He plans to talk to Gabriel about it for sometime now, “I’m afraid we need to do more tests to make sure the medical cube hovercraft can keep up with the main shuttle.”

“Oh…” Dean says, “I’m sure it’s going to be okay. But uh… are you sure you’re okay? You still look…” he blinks.

"What?" Castiel doesn't move. Did Dean really not see?

"You look gorgeous... Tired, but still hella gorgeous." Dean smiles, Castiel relaxes.

“This is nothing… I just need to sleep…that’s all.”

“Okay, then you can rest on me while we watch?” Dean flashes him a sly smile.

Castiel shakes his head. If there’s anyone here acting suspicious and needs to be doubted, it was him.

“I don’t think you’re going to let me rest…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Always do.” Dean begins pulling him to the door. Castiel shuts the lights in his room in a snap of his fingers and lets Dean lead him to the couch, and be taken in Dean’s arms where he rests his head on Dean’s shoulders.

But his mind is far away from the movie…his mind works fast… of how to find the truth. He doesn’t want to believe Sam Winchester is dead, and if he is, he will do everything he can so he and Dean can have a proper closure with it.

Even if it means dragging the body from some underground facility just so Dean can see Sam one last time. Castiel can let Dean decide after that. After he finds Sam dead or alive.

* * *

Much to Castiel’s stress, Gabriel is out of reach the following days. It’s not something uncommon. His brother usually ceases to exist when there are medical inquiries that require his attention. The longest he hasn’t seen his brother was two months, appearing only on the day Castiel was about to be launched on space the next day. Gabriel works like that. Works in many mysteries behind Division Core so if there is someone who can tell him about Sam Winchester’s status? It’s Gabriel.

Gabriel is the only one he can trust. But the question remains—why did Gabriel forward the message to him? Was it an accident? On purpose? Does Gabriel want him to make a decision to tell Dean or not? Then why the whole fine when he can send Sam Winchester’s profile alone?

More questions keep jumping one after another and though Castiel is familiar with such problem-solution scenarios, he can’t seem to face the fact that he still hasn’t told Dean about it.

Dean remains in the dark for the next five days, whistling in the kitchen, preparing everything Castiel needs after each of his lectures, and stays by his side even though he can feel Castiel is worried about something.

Dean doesn’t pry. He lets Castiel deal in his own way and that’s by using their hyper exercise machine. Dean would later join him, end in casual teasing and bicker because Castiel has temper problems when juggling stress concerning Dean until they’re making out on the wall, the floor—or anywhere Dean can get his hands on. Because nothing turns Dean on than his angry, stubborn ‘son of a bitch’ husband.

But Dean knows there is a problem.

Castiel knows he can’t keep it much longer.

It begins when Dean asks permission to go out on his own. Castiel stares at him critically while Dean innocently grins. It’s been a month since their marriage and everything has been smooth so far. Dean has gained access to most parts of the house to the extension of Division Core. Still, it’s the first time Dean’s asked to go on his own, not that Castiel does not trust him, but he knows Dean is still under strict monitoring.

His husband shrugs.

“I don’t mind if you come, really. I’d rather that. You, me cozy inside—”

“I have a session this afternoon, you know that.” He says cryptically, putting his glass tablet down his lap. He eyes Dean over the rim of his spectacles to find his husband smiling handsomely.

“You look really hot with those glasses, Cas.” Despite saying that, Dean didn’t approach him.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Castiel begins lifting his glass tablet but Dean shakes his head.

“It’s a crowded area, you think I’d let you go there?” Dean sits at the armchair. “Nope. You’re not allowed in actual crowded places again, you hear me, sunshine? I don’t want to see your milky pale like you’re half dead ever again. I’m just going out, buy us the prize pie, and then roam a little to get a hang of the city and then return to you.”

Castiel considers. He has a lecture and is still waiting for Gabriel to return all his fifty messages.

“Fine.” Castiel crosses his arms. He looks Dean in the eyes, not knowing whether he physically wants to keep Dean by his side or attach himself to the man so they don’t have to be separated. Fear still haunts him every night. Fear that everything will soon end. “Don’t do anything stupid, Dean. You know eyes are still on you.”

Dean smiles. “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel watches Dean go. He doesn’t have any reason to doubt Dean.

Dean returns by the next hour, whistling to himself and preparing the living room for their sweet movie time together. Castiel follows him with his eyes from his room, watching Dean from the wall monitor. After a moment when everything is dark and there’s but the night sky circling the entire living room, Dean calls Castiel in.

It’s when they’re snuggling so closely on the floor, Castiel resting his head on Dean’s arm as they watch some guy with a clicker, he uses to interfere with lives that Dean leans closely near on his ear and whispers, _“I love this… what we have.”_

Castiel hums. He trusts Dean.

It’s the third day when Castiel finishes another lecture that he realizes Dean hasn’t returned since that morning.

He checks his watch to see it’s already late. Heart racing, he checks Dean’s whereabouts. He finds, to his astonishment, Dean’s tracker over the North division. Upon checking the content, he sees Dean being escorted by two VOLTS authorities.

Cursing, he quickly leaves the room. He floors his car and used his VOLTs authority to skip any stations and arrives just in time when the patrol car’s door opens to the Northern tower leading to the main paramilitary headquarters. 

To Raphael. Castiel grits his teeth. He shouldn't have let Dean out. Not when eyes are upon them.

Castiel hurries to meet the two armed forces dragging Dean to the building. The Skywalker runs to them and with glinting dark eyes, Castiel glares up to the officer who quickly recognizes him.

"Sir."

Castiel fixes his eyes on Dean who stares back at him looking slightly surprised. 

“What is the meaning of this?” his blue eyes darken more his husband's bleeding lips.

“Sir Novak, your husband has breached protocols on unknown source communication.”

Castiel eyes Dean who stubbornly kept his eyes in front. Something is wrong. Dean sits rigidly in the back seat, not looking at him. He turns back to the officers with tight lips.

“I see. But wouldn't it have been preferable if he was sent directly back to me? I am the officer in charge of this rebel. Why is he brought here? Do you plan to detain him somewhere without my permission?” he growls with icy eyes even the men in visors cannot stare directly.

“There’s been… a miscommunication.” Comes one of the men, face still blank, “We received an order to bring Dean Winchester to Corps command.”

“Who gave that order?” Castiel snaps.

“Lucifer, sir.”

Castiel’s lips thinned. He throws a cold look at the guards and nods at Dean. “Release him now before I order a court-martial.”

The officers gape at him, then at each other. There’s a brief communication on the earpiece while one of the officers unchains Dean’s wrist. Dean glares at everybody including Castiel looking sullen with the pounding vein on the side of his face. Dean stands next to him and Castiel wants to pull him into his arms except one of the officers approaches him.

“The Chief in command wishes for your presence, sir. We are to bring you to him immediately.”

Castiel squints back at the man. He stares next to the mini-recorders and knows he is being watched. Castiel stands rigidly, his mind working. He needs to get Dean out of here, get Dean back home and then he can deal with whatever Raphael wants to say.

"I..." Castiel begins but the officers when the officers step aggressively towards him, Dean stands in front of Castiel with his nose flaring.

“Touch him—! I swear I'll end you.”

Castiel blinks at the back of Dean’s head. After a moment, he takes Dean by the shoulder and pulls him back.

“It’s okay, Dean. I’m not going.” To the officer, he adds cuttingly, “tell the commander I shall be with him in a moment after I teach my husband a lesson.”

All the way home, Dean glares at Castiel but the Skywalker keeps his hand around Dean's wrist. Dean can fight him later, but for now, his priority is to keep Dean safe.

* * *

The door of their suite shuts close and silence rings in Castiel’s ear as he ascends the stairs. He stops midway, then turns to Dean who remains standing by the door, glaring at him. It’s safer to put some distance between them when the mood is thick, unforgiving. And they are back to where they started, two opposing forces that can devastate each other with one holding the upper hand and it's not Castiel.

“Well?” he demands. Dean remains silent but he burns his eyes to Castiel. Something about him is just raw anger building up to a point where it can explode like a ticking bomb. Castiel presses his eyes closed.

“Dean, don’t make me stop trusting you—”

“Yeah?” Dean snaps, green eyes full of ire. “You ever gonna tell me how Sammy’s condition was getting worse? Or that it’s your brother who experiments on him?”

Castiel stops, dumbfounded. His mouth works but no sound comes out first. Dean found out… Dean knows…

His heart pounding hard against his chest, his ears ringing. _It’s over._ But does Dean know...?

“Who gave you that information?” his chest aches. He hadn’t meant to lie, hadn’t meant to keep Dean in the dark for too long but... too late. Dean takes a threatening step forward, and when he does it like that, Castiel knows Dean means serious business.

“So, it’s true? You’re not denying it? Your brother—the guy heading your Research lab?”

“Dean—”

 _“I trusted you!”_ Dean’s voice quivers.

There’s a pain in his eyes that slices Castiel's soul. Something has broken between them. Something irreparable. 

Daggers return in Dean’s eyes fill with disgusts that makes Castiel flinched back, “Castiel, you tell me now what’s happening to my brother or I swear—”

“I told you what I know,” he says coldly, meeting Dean’s intensity.

 _“Liar!”_ Dean shoves past him with Castiel slowly shutting his eyes. Dean doesn’t speak to him in the following days. Castiel tries to attempt a conversation but Dean always shuts him down. "You've been lying to me all along, Cas and you know it! That's why you can't tell me anything about Sam! You know how I found out!? From Pamela who received summons from your precious government! Pamela knows something wrong's happening and she spoke out in public. Do you know about that, Cas? No! Because you're happy to keep yourself here in the contains of your house, on your own! Indifferent of other people as long as they don't directly affect you! That's how you've been living all these years, right? In seclusion? Not minding people because you don't care! Well, newsflash- Pam out of many other of your subordinates have been rallying in secret! That's how I found from those working with your brother what's been happening! Your government is keeping my brother for the poison in his system! They've been keeping him as a shell for an organism that can potentially wipe out this world! And let me ask you, Cas- did you care?!"

Dean breathes hard like he just ran a marathon. Castiel stares at him blankly.

"No, I don't."

"That's what I thought." Dean snarls and he turns to the door. Castiel's heart sinks.

"Where are you going?" 

"Out! I'm out! We're done! I need to find your brother!"

"But your brother is..." Castiel catches himself in time to see Dean flashing a dangerous look in his direction.

“Dean! I cannot protect you like this!” he yells at him.

"I don't need your protection! And if I decide to blow myself up it's better than hide up here like a coward-" Dean reaches the knob but before he can yank it, his whole body stiffens and for five seconds he freezes on the spot, shaking with eyes rolling back to his head and drops on the floor unconscious.

Castiel falls on the ground beside him with eyes welling in tears. His thumb lingering on his ring.

He just attacked Dean.

* * *

Castiel waits for Dean to wake up. Slowly watches as the silhouette of the man rises from the bed of his room where he put Dean and waited. He stands by the door frame, head leaning on the pane when Dean's green glinting eyes fall on him, dark and forbidding. The green flickers to him darkly.

"You... stunned me."

Castiel stays silent. He doesn't tell Dean he has no way to protect him now. That Dean is safer outside of his reach. That there was no reason to stun Dean an hour ago. That he was merely acting on instinct to protect that one he loves. He doesn't tell Dean that.

“Why is it so important to go, Dean?” he softly asks, voice constricted.

“My subordinates are already inside the city!” Dean growls, sending a shiver down Castiel’s spine. “They’ve been here some days now. I don’t care if you plan to tell your bosses up there, but it’s going to be too late.”

“Are you going to kill me?” Castiel asks very calmly.

Dean’s eyes flicker. It’s the same look of concern he sees when Dean looked after him on the couch when he passed out. His heartaches. He misses Dean.

"That's not gonna be an easy job, right?" Dean says, standing erect, Castiel standing opposite him with face closing over Dean's choice. It hurts. He lost Dean. It hurts. Swallowing hard, Castiel takes a deep breath and waits for it to come. Anger fills Dean's eyes. There's only one way to get their heads levelled and that's by blood.

The sooner they get this out of this, the better Castiel will feel— once the intense pounding of his heart has settled. Because Dean is resisting, and that’s what this fucking country wants him to kill—Dean’s fight. Dean’s _will._

 _To kill his freedom is to kill Dean._ That is something Castiel is unwilling to do. Unwilling to win. But his love for the man?

Dean leaps forward, his fist swinging over Castiel’s cheek. His movements are fast, Castiel gives that to him but he did not have the same training as Castiel did. Does not have the same agility, and though Dean is a wild fighter, Castiel is the tactician which practically makes this a ‘Brain vs brawns.’ But Castiel has never underestimated Dean.

Not once.

Despite all that’s been said and done, no technique could prepare Castiel for the blow to his chest that knocks him out to the sofa, toppling it backwards and Castiel hits his head on the floor. The dizziness doesn’t catch because Dean jumps at him either to embrace him, tackle him, it’s all the same.

Castiel rolls on the floor away from the attack. He does not hold back at the first opportunity of an opening. He punches Dean, makes sure to let the man feel the full extent of his anger, his knuckles colliding with the man’s jaw side, rendering Dean out of sorts for a second as he leans his back against the wall and Castiel holds his ground.

“Done?” Castiel growls. Dean wipes the blood seeping at the corner of his mouth. As if the taunting renewed his anger, Dean grabs the broken lamp and hurtles it over Castiel’s head as a distraction. Castiel ducks, seeing Dean coming from his peripheral. Dean moves too slowly in Castiel’s opinion, maybe all that staying in their house, napping at noon and too much sex in the evening plus the fact that Dean’s heart isn’t really in hurting him, Castiel with much effort, trips Dean over one leg and they both crash to the floor, Dean grabbing Castiel just as he falls.

He gets Dean in an armlock fast, pulling Dean’s shoulder back, wrists pressed hard at his lower back. Dean struggles, breathing hard while Castiel stays on top of him, straddling his hips into submission.

“Must be turning you on, getting me where you want me again. When you let me fuck you.” Dean says through gritted teeth, tone laced with poison. Castiel’s face pales.

“S-stop it, Dean.”

“It would have been easier if you acted your part in this, you know, Cas? Could have hated me from the beginning. It’s easier to think of all of this? All of this isn’t real… but no… you gotta make it real for me, for us. I wanna believe you did that to put me wrapped around your fingers. Make me fall in love with you, then use it against me? Like how they planned it?" Dean’s voice is harsh, condescending and Castiel hates it.

“Stop it, Dean—”

"What do you want from me, Cas? you want me to fuck you on the wall? You enjoy my cock inside you so much you're willing to sacrifice everyone else?"

Castiel blinks with eyes watering. How can Dean... His heart breaks as he stares at the man breathing heavily on the floor. He can’t answer Dean when his lips are quivering like that. Can’t face the man looking as defeated as he does. The room is messy chaos with all the furniture toppled over and Castiel holds Dean down and lets Dean break his heart.

“I just wanted to protect you."

“Your brother killed mine.” Comes the dangerous voice and for a moment Castiel freezes. When he answers, his tone is cold, distanced. Dean stays very still like the voice is unknown to him. "That's not protection. You kept me here like a dog. You're just like your government. Fuck you, Cas, you don't own me."

Castiel's face closes.

“You’re right, I don’t. And if you think I’m one of them… then maybe you don’t know me as well as I’d like to think.” His grip on the man loosens Castiel stands up. He throws something on Dean's chest as the man rises to his elbow. Looking down, Dean sees Castiel's ring. 

"Take your ring and go. I don't know what you want me to do, Dean." Castiel looks away, his eyes welling with tears. “Go take your freedom. I am not one to stop you anymore."

Castiel walks out and locks himself in his study. He doesn't know what happened to Dean. Without the ring, he has no hold on the man. This crushes him more. He must be kidding himself. He has no hold over Dean from the very beginning. Their relationship was nothing more than of a keeper who took care of his charge until said charge attacks him, He and Dean are nothing more than enemies now.

So, Dean disappears. Castiel couldn’t trace Dean’s whereabouts, he doesn't have the ring. he sets Dean free now and without telling Core Command.

Heart clenching, he waits in agony. Will Dean return? Will he be okay? He read the report from Raphael asking him to report but he had no time when Dean could be in trouble. Castiel hates this helplessness. He’s afraid the next time Dean does it, it’s no longer a summon note that Dean will see but Dean’s cold body.

He hates it. He buries his face on his palms and tries to calm down. He cannot tell anyone; he will put Dean in danger if he does. He can’t report to Core Command. He is on his own. The moment they hear that Dean Winchester was out of his control, they would not hesitate to kill him. That’s the last thing Castiel needed.

Dean returns later that afternoon, moody and sulking. Castiel wanted to punch him but he didn’t. Castiel controls himself. The last thing he needs is Dean hating him more than he already does.

Castiel goes outside the living room but pauses.

“Dean.”

Dean is already sitting on the couch like a statue. He doesn’t acknowledge Castiel.

Castiel hovers for a second, but he cannot _go_ without saying his piece. There are many things he wants to tell Dean but then-

"You're back." there's a pause, "Why?"

Dean grunts and there’s a sound of him cracking his own knuckle. Castiel leans on the wall weakly. No, Dean shouldn't tell him why. Because Castiel's hope will only soar and he will be hopelessly falling over a rogue carrying his heart. 

"You don't need to do this." Castiel says quietly, "I'm going to be fine."

"They still cannot see me in public... I cannot reveal myself."

"So you're using me as your hideout?"

"You owe me that much."

Castiel's emotions well. “Dean, I—”

“If you’re going to apologize, fucking save it.” Dean’s voice is simmering with anger and Castiel wouldn’t be surprised if Dean attacks him. He might lose to Dean just this once. He feels drained, inadequate. And Dean won’t listen.

“I just want to say you need to be careful.” Castiel stands straight, eyes on the corner, left hand over his right elbow. “Whatever you’re thinking… whatever you’re doing… if you think it’s right, I won’t stop you…” he digs his fingers on his arms. It’s not about him and Dean anymore. “Dean…for me, please…just please be careful.”

His mouth dries. He turns away feeling his chest tightening. Castiel sighs and is about to enter his room when a strong hand jerks him back and pins him on the wall. Dean presses on him, kissing him, biting his lips, grazing his teeth— Castiel slides his hands behind Dean’s neck and pulls him closer. They breathe on each other’s mouth, pulling and tugging, Dean pressing hard on him, a leg slipping between his thighs. Dean presses his knees up against his balls and Castiel thinks Dean is going to torture him. But his kisses remain tender and gentle.

“Stop caring about me, Cas,” Dean grazes his mouth past Castiel’s cheeks. The touch burns his skin and Castiel finds himself wanting more.

"That's pot calling kettle black," Castiel mutters. Because Dean won't be here if it wasn't that.

Dean chuckles and just like that, he’s back to being Castiel’s Dean again, his husband.

“Dean…” he breathes, staring up at his husband, seeing the same pain reflected in Dean’s green eyes. He didn’t mean to hurt Dean. “I…”

Dean kisses him hot and full, catching Castiel’s mouth with an aggressive push. He shoves Castiel on the wall and kisses him in a frenzy. Heat flares in Castiel’s stomach, heat rising up to his chest, to his face, his whole body. He wants Dean, he needs Dean… And Dean wants him too.

"Dean... I'm sorry." Castiel says before Dean can take his breath away. 

Dean's gaze turns hard. Like he is painfully reminded of what's between them, Castiel just has to bring it up. They cannot keep this going on when the next second they will be on each other's throat.

Dean’s hands begin getting rough, his claw-like hands digging on Castiel’s sides like a hawk on a prey. Castiel lets him, their kiss turn into mouth bruising ones until Castiel’s lip is bleeding. The next thing, Dean takes both Castiel’s wrist in his large hands and pins it above his head. He uses his other free hand to rip Castel’s shirt, tearing the fabric while he suckles on Castiel’s neck, making Castiel flinch and hold his breath, heart thudding in his chest.

Dean wants it rough. Castiel can give it to him. Castiel can punish himself and let Dean do this no matter how painful it would be… but he can never live with the fact that in the end, Dean will be hurting too.

So he tries to push Dean away with his forehead. Dean bites his shoulder and Castiel howls in pain. It doesn’t help that Dean has his wrists pinned and a knee between his legs. Dean is ready to take him, Dean wants him.

Dean will hurt him and Castiel deserved it. But not Dean.

“Dean… please…” he sobs, his body shaking.

Dean pulls away at the sound of his voice.

“Cas—?”

His eyes find Castiel and the green eyes fall on Castiel’s torn shirt, his bleeding lips. Dean lets go of his hands and steps back looking horrified. Castiel staggers a little until he finds balance with his back against the wall. He and Dean stare at each other, one hurt and lost, the other is apologetic and sincere.

“You want to hurt me.” Castiel huffs, lips were swollen, and eyes stinging with tears. Dean flinches and takes a step away. Somehow it made Castiel’s erratic heart pull down. Dean doesn’t mean any of it… Dean doesn’t… it’s enough to fill his eyes with tears again.

“Cas…” Dean’s voice is broken as he tries to approach Castiel again, “I’m so sorry, Cas—.”

“I…” Castiel stares determinedly back at Dean whose eyes burn on him. “I won’t stop you…you can do whatever you want… but I won’t forgive you if you blame yourself for this… of what you’re going to do… don’t… I give you my consent.”

He closes his eyes and lets Dean do his worst.

But Dean only brushes Castiel’s cheek with one hand before he’s gone and back on his chair. Castiel enters his room and drops on his bed to muffle the sound of his cry. He can’t let Dean see him cry every time. He knows now that Dean doesn’t want to hurt him.

It’s the only thing he needs to survive this mess

An hour later, he is back on his feet. On his monitor are three pending letters from Core Command. Castiel shuts his eyes and slides down the floor holding his knees dejectedly. They know Dean is moving, they suspect Dean is moving. They want a report. Castiel can lie. He will.

Pulling himself up from the floor, he drags himself in front of the monitor and begins working on a side story. It’s the last thing he can do. Gabriel won’t tell him anything except to bow his head and listen to orders so they won’t suspect him. How can they not suspect Castiel when Dean freely roams around. But Castiel needs to protect him and his only power is to be the center of their attention. He writes down the most sounding explanation of why Dean is found alone in different places. Of why Dean Winchester is not seen with his husband.

He knows Core Command is suspecting him already and he can’t bring Dean’s attention to that. This is no longer Dean’s control. He just wishes Dean would be careful.

He sends the report and lies on his bed with sleep not coming his way. He has to think of another cover story in case Dean disappears again. But Castiel is always with him, he tells in the other report. He never lets Dean out of his sight. All lies. He will continue this as long as he needs to until Dean is fully satisfied until Dean finds Sam. Castiel can do this as much and he is willing, fighting his own battle in order to get Dean back.

Dean doesn't return the next time he disappears. What if VOLTs finally realizes Dean is behind everything this time? The thought shakes Castiel to the core. Then there’s a message on his account when he checks it but when he opens it, his blood runs cold.

It’s from Raphael.

_Report immediately upon reading at Division 0._


	9. Dark Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And the last man standing is...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tag for violence and blood!

[ ](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Things went from bad to worse that single day when Dean did not return for two consecutive days. No trails of his whereabouts and with another summon from Raphael he knows things are about to turn for the worse. No sooner has he finished his shower; he hears a knock on the door. He knows it wasn’t Dean. Dean knows their passcode—Dean is fucking free to do whatever he wants including fucking Castiel’s life. Which may also include Castiel finding himself in front of two authorities ready to escort him to Raphael.

There’s no escape this time

Castiel’s heart tightens. Did they find Dean? Do they know? Is Dean hurt?

_Is Dean hurt?_

Castiel wants to ask them but he cannot do that without compromising their situation. So, he went with them without question and was led to Division 0. It is the same as the Northern RT building. Castiel did not know that Division 0 is actually functioning. Then again, he's been out of touch of anything in his own city, which must be his mistake.

He is lead to a Central 5 labelled for discipline. Castiel can’t help grimacing. At least he knows which is his offence which was a very rare occurrence for paramilitary officers. At length, he must be the third paramilitary officer to commit such an atrocious crime.

Atrocious? Castiel fell in love.

Clenching his jaw, he follows Raphael’s guards when they fetch him from the waiting room.

He is led directly to another dome at the top of the tower. Castiel knows this place. Everything is nothing but white panes and when they finally turn to a room, he immediately notices the round metal platform wrapped in translucent glass. The control panels are above, where Castiel can see the research team he doesn’t recognize busy with their monitors. He knows this place. They call it the Adaptor. Castiel eyes it warily. The silver console in the middle with circuit design on the surface layer is dangerous. It both drains and discharges power in the middle. This is their torture board. He has heard about this a number of times. Only high ranked officials from the Research team are allowed here. He wonders if Gabriel knows he is here.

“Skywalker.”

Castiel faces a tall, highly efficient commander with piercing dark eyes and voice an octave deep, he fully emits an aura of a leader. One of the three commanders at Core Command—Raphael.

Castiel remains standing where he is till Raphael is mere inches from him.

“Your reports have been misleading for some time now.” He begins with a deadpan. Castiel does not flinch, he’s used to that battle command mode.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was instructed to monitor Dean Winchester and I have given the necessary reports of his behavior and raised any concern.”

“From what I read it is not Dean Winchester whom we should be wary about but your ability to keep your loyalty to your superiors. Three escapes in one week, Castiel… are you trying to prove a point by showing us how incompetent you are?”

“If incompetence refers to how my household has suddenly malfunctioned and allowed Dean to escape by merely tampering with a knife. I thought the whole place is under your security?”

Raphael’s eyes widened.

It confirms what Castiel already knows. This guy doesn’t know anything. “Are you accusing one of the Core Commanders of doing this on purpose, so Dean Winchester could escape?”

Castiel does not answer but he does give Raphael his own blue piercing glare.

Raphael backhands him across the jaw. Castiel saw it coming but didn’t bother stopping. Raphael can kill him here and now, but fighting back means death all the same. The slap comes sharp.

Castiel stifles a cry at the throbbing pain in his jaw and the pounding it causes his head. He doesn’t stumble. It takes much more force than that to make him step back. He bites his tongue to avoid saying anything that may put his life and Dean’s life in jeopardy.

“Strip.”

Castiel watches Raphael walk away with his eyes on the giant metal sphere inside the large dome. Not bothering with any assistance, he touches his rings and everything he is wearing disappears.

He climbs inside the metal ring and stares as the glass closes above his head.

The air is thin and cold, he can see the flicker of lights on the glass floor. Apprehension sets in his stomach. He knows. He knows everything but knowing can’t prepare him from what’s going to happen next. He stares back at Raphael watching him impassively. He wonders if this would be enough for them.

Face closing, he quietly takes his seat on the lone console in the middle of the machine. Putting his hand on the armchair, his rings lock and he can no longer move. The glass dome lights up red. A little uneasy, Castiel lets his back leaning against the chair. No sooner has he closed his eyes than the lights turn bright green and electric bolts come surging through his body.

Pain. All that is there is pain.

* * *

Someone is fussing on his left side. His body doesn’t feel like his and everything is foggy in his memory that for a whole minute, he thought he’s forgotten to shut the entryway of the spaceship and he is floating in the galaxy without oxygen. No wonder he can’t breathe…

“Cas…? Cas stay with me, okay?”

His mouth is dry. There’s something moving under his skin he cannot identify. His chest hurt too, his heart aches the most. He is losing oxygen… he will die in the sky…

“You won’t die, idiot! I already stabilized your blood pressure. Hang on, we’re near your capsule…”

Castiel opens his eyes and grimaces at his brother. Gabriel hisses as he half carries, half drags Castiel to his capsule suite in the middle of the night.

“Where’ve you…” he tries but the muscles on his mouth don't work well. Something at the back of his head wants to… everything is very slow.

“…it’s okay, Cassie… I got you… _shit,_ I’ll just give you something for those burns…. Damn those people hurting you like that… Raphael, that bastard …hey- hey, are you still with me? Cassie?”

“…hear you…” he murmurs, closing his eyes in discomfort as a wave of queasiness hit his body. His head lolls to his brother’s chest trying to ease the discomfort in his body. But it’s not this that worries him when they reach his door as Gabriel slams his ring print in on the panel.

“Is your stupid husband here?” Gabriel murmurs as he kicks open the door.

“… must’ve escaped again…” Castiel mumbles, drifting from consciousness to passing out. His body feels so spent, his arms like a log and it’s not just his body. His brain works like a snail but he slowly gets the strings and he remembers. Gabriel. Raphael. Torture machine. Dean.

_Dean._

The thought of his husband gets Castiel snapping from his sluggish brain. The thought of not finding Dean here is much of a thunderbolt than the machine. Dean leaving him, he resents that above anything else. But it’s been over seven hours since he left, he doubts Dean is still around—

“Good. Or I might punch his ass—” Gabriel curses.

“Don’t tell him, it’s fine.”

“Are you an idiot?” Gabriel curses at him. Castiel shakes his head. His brother sighs. “You’re one stubborn guy I’ve ever had the misfortune to be my brother, do you know what?!”

Castiel smiles but he tells Gabriel to leave him standing outside the door. Gabriel tells him to fuck off so there’s that. But the wave of pain in his body is beginning to make his legs jelly. He doesn’t know if Dean is even there. Doesn’t know if Dean is even there.

The door opens.

“Cas?”

Castiel tries to raise his head and sees a bobbing pink flesh pelting from somewhere on his right. Next thing, warm hands wrap around his body and try to carry him, he moans at the familiar smell and clings to the solid body much more than he did to his brother.

He hears voices—but he doesn’t let go till he passes out in the familiar arms.

“Cas…? Cas, baby, you okay?”

Castiel frowns at bright lights but his attention is taken by movements at his side and warm pressure on his right hand. He blinks several times before refocusing on the figure beside him.

His husband’s face swims before his eyes.

“Dean?” he croaks, emotions seizing his heart. Dean is here, Dean is okay. He can’t stop the melting of his heart. It’s enough.

Dean exhales, then slides down the bed to kneel so their faces are level. He grips Castiel’s right hand tight and sighs, kissing the back of his hand ardently.

“Oh, Cas… I’m so sorry.”

Castiel breathes through his mouth, his head still in a spell of dizziness. He clears his dry throat, the grip on his hand not releasing. He gives Dean a frown, then eyes the water glass on the side table. Dean quickly hands him the glass of water and helps him sit up. After a refreshing sip, he sits properly on his own, before glancing at his hands still entwined with his husband. He lifts his eyes to Dean.

Their eyes lock. There’s a dark bruise over Dean’s right eye and a cut on his bottom lip like he’s been beaten. Castiel opens his mouth wanting to know if this was done by VOLTs, but Dean shakes his head.

“Your brother. We had a long chat.”

Castiel’s eyes swim with tears. Dean embraces him before he can say anything else.

“I know I’m a wacko,” Dean breathes on his neck, his arms tightening around the Skywalker, “but I really love you.”

Castiel knows this time he can believe him.

* * *

They stay on the bed, staring at the green nebula with Dean perched on the headboard of the bed, Castiel leaning on half his body. Neon lights of green fill his vision, but Castiel can barely concentrate on the beauty beyond. Something that usually fills his heart now feels empty. What Castiel soaks himself in now is the presence of the body next to his heart. Dean has arms wrapped about him, rubbing his shoulders affectionately, their legs tangled. Castiel misses this warmth. He closes his eyes, leaving the brilliant green interstellar cloud of dust on the galactic plane. He doesn’t mind that he can’t reach them. Dean heaves him on his arms.

“How are you feeling?”

Castiel refrains from answering. Dean doesn’t stop rubbing his arms.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the drugs and the notice from Core Command? Your brother told me after he smacked me good on the face.”

Castiel buries his face deep in the crook of Dean’s neck. He doesn’t apologize for his brother. This has to be a dream. Dean isn’t being nice now. Dean is being the jerk that he is on the couch. They are fighting. A finger lifts his chin. Castiel stares into the lively green.

“You should have told me.” Dean sniffs around his neck, cradling Castiel closely to the point of pain, “You idiot, you should have told me you’ve had many warnings! I wouldn’t have—”

Castiel shakes his head slowly. “There was nothing you could do about it. And they were after me. Not you.” Dean’s grip on him tightens.

“They went after you because of me.” He says and it rumbles in his throat roughly. Castiel smiles at the sincerity but he never wanted to see Dean this broken. Dean wasn’t supposed to break because of him. He is only Castiel. Dean only cries for Sam. That’s how it works.

“It’s over now. I never told them anything.”

Dean’s grip on his arms tightens.

“Stop protecting me, Cas.”

“How can I?” Castiel blinks, eyes stinging. “I’m your husband first… above everything else.”

Dean sobs as he buries his face on Castiel’s chest. It’s painful, but Castiel can bear with it. He doesn’t know what else to do with a full adult crying, sobbing in his body. It feels awkward, but he finds himself crying too. He touches Dean’s soft hair and smoothens it. Dean’s hair is so soft.

“It’s okay… Dean.”

“I’m sorry… _so fucking sorry…”_ Dean claws his shoulders. “I didn’t know…”

“Perhaps a little space…” Castiel says, finally able to breathe out when his husband pulls a little. They look in each other’s eyes. Dean looks heartbroken as he caresses Castiel’s cheek. Warmth and love are there. His Dean is back. Castiel closes his eyes. Too many tears will dehydrate him soon.

“We should go far away, Cas…” Dean tells him, carding shaking fingers at the back of Castiel’s head. “I will protect you, they won’t be able to touch you, I promise… please…”

Castiel smiles at him sadly. “I am… I am already shackled to the frame…they will know all my movements, Dean. You can’t take me anywhere.”

Dean stares dumbly back. Castiel chuckles. “Four horsemen.” He says sadly.

Dean’s whole expression changes and before Castiel can stop him, Dean is tugging on his clothes, hastily but careful not to touch the burns on the skin. Castiel closes his eyes when Dean finally removes his final garment and exposes him to the light, of how he found Dean Winchester now Castiel is subjected to the same treatment.

It doesn’t help the bruises left on his skin, the gashes of lightning still scorching. The chain marks around his body. The two rings set heavily on his cock.

Castiel has no way to escape.

Dean stands up and wreaks havoc in the room while Castiel waits in silence. His body still feels heavy and Dean is noisy. There’s a moment where Castiel just wants everything to stop—the pain, the noise, the upcoming storm—until the man is done and returns beside him, wrapping his hands around Castiel’s frame and embracing him tight against his chest.

“I won’t leave you again.”

Castiel opens his eyes. “You have to. This time.”

“Cas…” Dean grits his teeth.

“They know, Dean… they suspect… and they’re keeping me here as a bait… I don’t even know how much they know but Gabriel says they will come here… and they will find me, but not you… you have to go.”

“No.” Dean’s touch on his cheek doesn’t disappear. Castiel sighs

“You can’t stay… Don’t.” Castiel looks away, not wanting to listen because it is not going to happen. If Dean gets out now, he will never come back to Castiel but he will be free. Dean will be free.

Dean shakes his head. “No. Where I’m going… I don’t… I can’t see you get hurt again.”

Castiel grimaces. “You think you’re not hurting me now? You have to go, Dean… there are people waiting for you… please…”

Dean swallows and their temples touch until the man is wrapping his strong arms around Castiel who buries his nose in Dean’s neck, stifling the sobs threatening to escape his lips. This isn’t happening.

“I love you, Cas,” Dean whispers, leaning in, their lips grazing.

Castiel opens his eyes, waterworks on display. “No, you don’t.”

They kiss. It’s sweet. He wants to touch Dean again… someday…. If he can escape the fate set upon by the horseman… but for now, he needs to set Dean free. They both need to let go.

With this hanging in their heads, the Skywalker and the rebels hold each other for dear life as they watch the swirls of the stars from the sky above.

* * *

“Dean left.”

There’s a loud exhale from the other side of the pod where he can see his older brother bowing his head with his jaw clenched. Castiel stares at him for a moment before he gets distracted by the empty ceiling. There was no point staring at the scenic view of the stars. He’s lost his green nebula and he’s not planning a replacement any time soon.

So that’s how his brother found him lying there with his head on the armchair of the couch two days after, trying to piece things together because that’s what he does. When at lost for things that don't quite fit, he thinks things through and finds the connection. Dean has called in several times in those two days that Castiel almost wants to tease him for missing him too much. Dean expressed just how glad he is Castiel is still okay, under the horseman, yes, but still okay.

Castiel advised Dean not to call all the time since he is under strict monitoring. The funny thing was, Dean, is confident that his connection is secure which is rather strange. Castiel knows someone from Dean’s group is a genius, Sam was suspected to be one on the file that he received, but it doesn’t add up. Dean said his men have already infiltrated Division Core without anyone noticing. That just means somebody from the inside helped them.

The only person capable of doing that from the inside was someone skilled enough to not be detected in the system. Someone who knows the system from within. He knows one person who can do that. At the same time, the mystery about Sam Winchester’s whereabouts. Dean didn’t seem particularly keen to worry about Sam anymore. In fact, his husband was now more worried about him more than anything else which only means Dean found out somehow that Sam is okay. That Sam was never really dead. Castiel is glad. At least Dean doesn’t have to be alone.

“What are you still doing there then?” asks his brother sharply. “You know they’ll be coming for him and you!”

“Well, since they already have me shackled, I was planning to wait here for them—"

He is rudely interrupted with his door buzzing openly. Castiel doesn’t bother sitting up. He can hear his brother asking what the racket is about but Castiel just closes his eyes and whispers on the phone, “Whatever it is you have to do, do it, Gabe. I’m going to be fine. Tell that to Dean too.”

“W-what?”

Castiel opens his eyes. He sees VOLT’s members in their white uniform rush in his peripheral and surrounds him on the couch.

“Castiel Novak you are hereby arrested for collaborating with Dean Winchester and releasing top-secret information of Division Core!”

“Cassie!”

Gabriel. Gabriel was in the league of the rebels. He stares quietly as the pod where his brother’s anxious face hovers in the air is blocked by the paramilitaries. Castiel doesn’t fight them. It’s all piecing together. He doesn’t talk about it to Dean, doesn’t understand why his brother lied to him.

All he can think about as they drag him out of his room that they must’ve their reasons. 

Castiel is brought to isolation. It’s not much as different than being in the confines of his spaceship. The only difference was there’s nothing for him to see but the limiting walls and himself. This was his only stress. He has finally found himself stuck.

The beauty of it was Castiel has seen many things in his life, so much beauty outside Earthsea that closing his eyes He doesn’t need any scenic ceilings, he doesn’t need any technology. He just needs his memories as nothing compares to the real thing.

Best of his memories, of course, was Dean. Idiot that Dean is, barbaric, handsome and hot-tempered, angry most of the time but capable of emotions… so much emotion it overwhelms Castiel whenever to see him wallowing in his own pain… or when Dean is overjoyed and there’s Castiel to see light before his eyes. How long has it been since he enjoyed the scenic view of the rising sun? He can’t remember. He always watches Dean, soaking himself in the memory of the man whose eyes light up, corner of mouth curling to something satisfied.

they touch, whenever Dean smiles, whenever Dean is close by.

He clings to his memory as he curls to himself. He is fine. He has Dean right here in him. He is fine. Darkness has no place in his heart, emptiness doesn’t even fit because he’s full of Dean in his mind, in his heart.

And Dean is fighting outside. Castiel didn’t tell him his suspicion of arrest, they both thought the Horsemen would keep them at bay. But of course, when your husband is a rebel, you are expected of the same sedition.

And it’s fitting that Castiel is in prison accused of treachery rather than the husband standing beside the enemy line against Dean. He can never imagine hurting Dean. He prayed they would never catch him again. Sam is out of harm's way if he makes a guess that Gabriel is taking care of him. There was nothing to hold Dean back into a surrender.

Nothing.

Except maybe Castiel. It makes Castiel laugh. To think that Dean would be in danger of capture because him, he’ll never hear the end of it. He was not some damsel in distress that needed saving. So, one day when Michael steps into the room, Castiel knows the situation outside is bad. Days of confinement and he hears very little from the outside. Chaos is obvious the way VOLTS members run outside the corridor a lot. He figures the paramilitary has been engaging with the Resistors who invaded the city in one night. It’s been going on for a week.

Castiel was expecting Core Command to move soon. Michael offers him a position back in VOLTs to take command, Castiel laughs at his face. He confirms now that they are at their last precept. Would have done the same if this was the last strategy. He tells them he’s nothing to Dean Winchester if that’s what they are after. He also tells them using him now as a face of propaganda would only backfire because Castiel is not planning, in any way, to be used like another puppet.

Michael leaves the room with a grim expression and Castiel knows he’s stepping on a mine. Michael is never popular for being tolerant, especially with rebels. Code Reactor was activated and that’s not very good at all. There’s a gigantic nuclear reactor underneath Earthsea that supplies power to the entire land and if triggered, the whole world will collapse. Gated Division Core will explode and erase the remnants of what was called Earth. Core Command has that power.

But more importantly, Castiel just admitted to himself that he is now a rebel.

He wishes with all his might that Dean is safe.

Two days after Michael’s visit, a very solemn Castiel hears the front door of his white cell open. He barely registers Raphael’s presence until he is in front of him. There’s a gleam behind his dark eyes telling of the next days to come.

Officers knock him off his feet and tasers him, leaving Castiel curling in his body breathless and in pain. Rough hands seize his shoulders and they take him out of his room. He was brought to the electrical chamber where he spent days focusing on one thing and that’s surviving. The electrical shot comes to a point it stops his heart. A very exhausted Castiel is thrown back in an empty cell where they chain his wrists and strip him completely.

It became a routine. Unchain. Electrical chamber. Intolerable pain dangerously tearing his limbs apart until he no longer breathes and then they would revive him. Castiel’s body endures. Every time they bring him back he thinks it’s a curse resurrection. But he holds on. There are bits in his memory he can hear Lucifer’s voice asking for intelligence. What a bag of dick.

“Fuck off.”

Lucifer beat him while he was in chains. It’s the first time anyone physically touched him and he hated Lucifer’s touch. The man is a devil incarnate. He doesn’t use tools. He uses his own fingers to mark Castiel’s body. And it’s no pleasure. There’s something repulsive in being touched but it’s never for pleasure. Lucifer has a way of making his insides burn. The devil has a way of making you want to gut yourself from the inside.

“He likes touching you here?”

Castiel let his lips bleed to stop himself from screaming. The pain doesn’t stop. His body can’t find any moment of peace to rest. Let alone close his eyes. Lucifer must think he is a sucker of pain until there’s nothing but the surge of electricity coiling inside his body and he just burns.

He forgets days. Forgets hours. The bleeding on his wrist doesn’t feel anything anymore. Then someone grabs his hair and jerks his head. There’s someone… Raphael. Castiel breathes hard. The amount of time it took for his brain to register… it made him a little uneasy. Raphael is scrutinizing him, from the color of the purpling bruise on the corner of his eyes to the bleeding of his mouth. Smug satisfaction appears there. Castiel thinks Lucifer may be getting a promotion.

Being too weak, he slumps his head on his shoulder when Raphael pulls away.

“Hello, Castiel.”

Castiel blinks.

“I hear Lucifer says he’s broken you, but why does it look like… there’s still a shred of sanity in there somewhere.” Raphael says, menace lacing his tone.

Castiel swallows but he only hangs his head. Something close to panic is forming a lump in his throat. This attention from the infamous three Commanders, this kind of acknowledgement amidst the war, it doesn’t bode well.

Raphael’s eyes glint darkly.

“We nearly caught Dean Winchester yesterday.”

Horror filled Castiel’s expression and for the first time, his idled brain from pain jumped in attention. It earned the darkest smile in the Commander’s lips.

“You know how we lured him out yesterday?”

Castiel stays silent but his lips quiver. Raphael inclines his head.

“We broadcasted an example of what happens to traitors in live media… I’d say your physical attractiveness draws attention while in the chamber.”

Castiel lets out a breath. In his mind he imagines hundreds of people watch him get tortured on the screen while fearing for their lives…but then—

“So some civilians are fighting back?” his voice is rough but he manages a smirk. It’s natural. The look on Raphael’s face satisfied him immensely.

“Yes, that… but it did what we were aiming for… and it also brought Dean Winchester from his hideout.”

Castiel lets his mind linger on almost…almost… Was Dean hurt?

“I came here to make a final resolution of what it is that must be done to you. And the experiment yesterday panned out… you are Dean Winchester’s weakness.”

“Why do you do this?” Castiel lashes out, pulling out his last ounce of strength to stand straight and meet Raphael’s eyes with his sharp blue. “If you think you can use me against Dean… if you think he’d surrender because of me, you’re wrong. He left me… we had

“And still he went looking for you. We understand how threatening you are. Lucifer understood it at some extent. He is now out there hunting your husband, too happy to let him he has laid hands on you… I’m afraid we can no longer turn a blind eye. The damage will be colossal if we let Winchester continue the uprising. We’re not as stupid. We always know it’s the possibility of rebels harboring weak feelings for their partners that will keep them chained to Core Command… thousands of years in modernity and our ways of manipulating people is still archaic… Feelings.” He spits out when Castiel squints feebly.

“Well now, I think it’s time we break the limit. We can make people obey us without holding into something spontaneously uncontrollable such as feelings…” Raphael snaps his fingers. An officer walks behind him holding what looked like an injection. Castiel’s heart skyrockets.

“What are you doing…?” he struggles on his chains to no avail.

Raphael nods and like lightning, the officer is in front of Castiel and pulling on his arm. Castiel watches in horror as the officer jabbed the syringe on his arm—the blue liquid is cold and he feels it run on his veins. And then his knees give out and his whole-body sags forward. It’s like watching from outside his body and all he can hear is Raphael’s voice in the distance…

“You are the key to slowing the pace of the rebels. If you cannot find it in yourself how to fight them, it’s because you remain to be a vessel holding onto sentiments brought upon by memories… well, now.” Raphael must’ve laughed, Castiel isn’t sure he can stomach someone evil laughing… “You don't need sentiments, Castiel… and soon everyone in this city won’t have to worry about anything but follow Core Command…”

Castiel is falling somewhere deep and he is drowning. There’s the green nebula fading in the skies and trying as he might hold on, he failed to catch it. It slips his hand and it’s the worst feeling…

The sky disappears as well as the ground and he is falling…


	10. Under the Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they meet again under the same sky

* * *

[](https://oddsocksandstuff.tumblr.com/post/618723060402503680/i-was-thrilled-to-get-to-work-on-this-story-by)

Castiel couldn’t remember the last time his body was able to rest. he must have been kept for more than two weeks now. He was exposed to excessive electric charges, controlling electrical brain impulses that warps his perceptions of reality because every time they throw him back in his cell, he knows he's not alone. He can hear voices in his head… but mostly, it’s a man that invades his mind’s lapses against the pain. And it would bring out memories...

_Of Dean and his couch, Dean refusing to hand the cookie jar, Dean laughing at what Castiel said. Castiel hands him the silver ring. Dean left. Again and again, it played in his mind._

_“But—”_

_“You’ve got a country to save, Dean. A brother to protect. You don’t have the luxury to worry about the kind of people who used you. The people who manipulated you.”_

_Castiel grimaces. The trembling of his hands doesn't stop. The pain from the electrical charges doesn't wane. And still, he can remember Dean. “I can take care of myself. If push comes to shove, all I have is my ship.” His voice quivers, he touches Dean’s chin. “Go. Do what you’re fated to do. Save everyone like the unsung hero that you are.”_

_Somewhere in his mind, he recalls a brief call from Dean a day after he disappeared. Castiel hasn’t left his house, hasn’t answered any calls, when this unknown number with code tagged. Castiel’s heart swells. Running quickly to the couch, he clicks the remote to turn off all security and turns to the phone. He doesn’t pick up though. He just listens to Dean’s voice. He can't remember that time where he'd call this a reality._

_Maybe it's all a dream?_

_And Dean is calling again but this time his rough voice echoes in the silence, nearly hitting Cas off his floundering state at how Dean's voice, patched up and deep, sounds very real. Very close._

_“Cas…” Dean’s voice is heavy, slurring. “I miss you.”_

_Castiel glares at the pod-like it’s the one offending him. Dean’s been drinking. Too intoxicated by now, it seems. Fear and anger wallow in his gut because drunk Dean tends to be more boisterous, less reserved. More argumentative, never less sincere. Castiel fears what he will hear this time. Is Dean going to sing out the tune where he finally says he wished he didn’t meet the angel at all…?_

_Because Castiel doesn’t want to hear that and will refuse any comment that comes along those lines. Whatever Dean says, Castiel will protect their fated meeting, even if he’s the only one who finds meaning to it that moment._

_“You there, Cas?” Dean’s voice suddenly gets louder enough to make Cas jump. “Dammit, where’s the… uhnnnn Mmm…pshh… is this broken…? Shit…”_

_Cas listens still. He hears scraping sounds in the background and wonders if Dean is dragging his feet on the floor, dragging his shoulder along the wall, but it’s clear he’s dragging himself from somewhere. His breathing is labored. Castiel’s always told him not to let his drinks get to his head. It’s dangerous. After a second, Dean’s voice returns speaking._

_“Heyy… hey? Stop the shit about you… voicemail… you’re not talkin’ again…Sorry for not callin’ for days I’ve been waitin’…looking for things to get safer. Are you safe Cas? I hope you are…” there’s a swallow, “Won’t you pick up the phone? You better answer, please… I… I want to hear your voice…. I miss you a lot…. why aren’t you talking? You always talk. Please, Cas… please…”_

_Castiel’s lips tremble when the dial tone beeps. Bold of Dean to assume he would just be fine and answer without thinking how Castiel feels at all. Actually bold of Dean to think of getting in touch when they are under close monitoring— it’s taking for Castiel to not answer._

_He waits for a few painful moments, then Dean is calling straight to voicemail again._

_“I’ve been thinking, y’know,” Dean’s voice doesn’t lose that loudness like he doesn’t care, “should’ve let you come with me… I’ve been fightin’ with VOLTs and their crazy strong... makes me think I don’t want you here either… I wanna promise to get you back and I tell myself I can… god, how I miss you, Cas… since I left all I can think about is you… but I can’t… y’know the drill. Sam’s here and he’s okay, you don’t worry about him. I’m more worried about how you are… please answer the phone so I know how you are, please, Castiel…”_

_Castiel lets his fist hang in the air, before standing up, raking his fingers through his hair and pulling. This is stupid, he shouldn’t have let Dean go. Or he should’ve just gone with Dean. The longing in his heart burns him to the point of wanting to drown himself._

_Castiel sighs as he remains on the couch. “_ _But you’re the one who left me, Dean… what do you want me to do?”_

He remembers thinking it. He never told Dean that. Is this a memory? Is this real?

It all fades in the dark.

* * *

Someone comes back after a long dark day and stabs something in his arm again.

Castiel doesn’t care. The pain won't stop. He hears repeatedly how he needs to serve in the line outside. Things are bad. So many explosions but the man with even voice never appears. Castiel wonders if it was his time to fight. he is a member of VOLTs. Why is he being tortured by VOLTs... did someone...?

The buzzing doors open again and Castiel flinches. He tries to lift his swollen eyes to the light. It hurts. His body doesn’t feel anything anymore but he can certainly complain about too much light. Something is happening outside, he can tell but he can’t remember what. There’s a moment where he just floats in there… He hears explosions and cries… he wonders idly why he is not fighting outside. He is military, is he not? Why was he chained? And why… anyone tell him why he feels like there’s a gaping hole in his chest…

The walls shake, the door of his dark cell crashes and there is a shadow. Castiel tenses. He cannot remember why he was here. It makes him panic but he tries not to show it. The last thing you want to show your captors is succeeding in their torture.

But VOLT's is his torturer... why...?

The shadow stops in front of him. Castiel hangs his head.

“Cas?”

Castiel painfully squints. The face comes closer and lights blink back at the wall. He sees a man holding a high caliber sonic weapon while sporting a bleeding lip and gashes on his face. Castiel stares. His eyes are too… green. His name pops out in Castiel’s memory and all he can think about is the word enemy.

An enemy with very red eyes—crying.

“Oh, Cas…” he runs close, nearly dropping his weapon in his haste.

Castiel tenses as the man come bounding toward him and catch him in what seemed to be a very awkward embrace—Castiel registers he is naked and a man leaping forward for a hug should be the strangest experience in his life. He doesn't recognize him. He doesn't recognize the embrace. It's all too strange but Castiel's instinct to fight and preserve the little care he has left. 

The man- rebel- unchains him with a ring that belonged to a paramilitary officer. Castiel stiffens as his right hand comes free from the chains. His body slumps, but the rebel got him around the waist. Castiel grits his teeth, panic turning solid to something else. So when his other hand gets free, the first thing he did is scramble out of the man's grasp and stumbles on his frail legs.

Castiel doesn't remember feeling so... weak. He struggles to keep on his feet but fails miserably. The man comes down to help him.

"Don't touch me!"

The man gasps in surprise but Castiel doesn't care. He blinks stupidly for a few seconds, then keeps staring.

"Cas, don't move, you'll hurt yourself!"

 _Cas?_ Castiel can't see anything as blood rushes up to his head. 

“Who are you?”

The man stops frozen on his feet. His green eyes reflect utter shock. "Cas... Cas, don't you know me?"

There's a long pause but Castiel has trouble keeping his head up. His body is burning. They should have killed him. He wonders if this man will kill him. 

"Enemy."

The green eyes flicker from horror then panic. Castiel doesn't think it's amusing more than it is confusing.

"Cas, don't fucking kid with me!" it happened fast, the man is upon him and trained to protect himself, Castiel evades his touch. And he is very slow but the man hesitates when their arms collide. There's a kick under the leg and the enemy crashes down the floor- or is it the man landing on his back to break Castiel's fall, he's not sure. And anyway, why would the man do that?

But Castiel finds himself victorious above him. And there's the gun. He straddles the enemy despite the protest of his body.

What a very careless opponent. Castiel points the gun in his face, ready to kill him in cold blood. He remembers this feeling. Of feeling dominance over others. Of making them feel that he is in control of their life and as he gazes down at the man, Castiel finds himself hesitating to end him. He thought of pulling the trigger but his finger won't move.

Castiel swallows. His chest is very heavy. He wants to cry just looking down at the man. What is happening...?

"Cas... don't you remember me?"

"Silence." Castiel prods the gun on the rebel's head, "So this is your doing... you... took over Division Core and brought the city in shambles... you..." Castiel sees deep into those green eyes and he doesn't see fear or anger. He just sees something...different. But he’s also a member of VOLTs. The last time he remembered, Division Core hadn't done anything to break his trust. And this man—

“I am a member of VOLTs…” he begins to recite coldly.

“Cas…” Dean chokes. "It's me... Dean...Let me up, we need to get you out of here."

“No.” it struck him that something warm is wrapping in his wrist. Looking down, he sees the rebel holding his wrist not too hurt, just a touch that lingers. Castiel's heart twists. The man's expression is all pain. "What are you doing?"

“Cas…” the voice is heavy, full of emotions. "You really don't remember me?"

There’s a movement behind him and the familiar face of Gabriel—Castiel’s brother comes into view.

"Cas! Shit, Winchester, don't move, he'll-"

“Gabe?” Castiel's breath catches. His brother is also holding a gun similar to the man. what is happening?

“God, Cassie, I got you,” Gabriel says, heaving him closely in his arms. Castiel can’t support his own weight.

The tall rebel man comes on his brother’s other side, takes his arms and quietly sweeps him off his feet. Castiel reserves his dried throat as he gets carried like a princess out of the door. He hears Gabriel shout something, somewhere in the darkness. And all Castiel can do is stare at the gaunt face of the man with sparkling green nebula for eyes that have captured his attention.

He doesn’t remember anything. Then darkness steals at the corner of his eyes and he remembers nothing more.

* * *

It took an eternity for him to return to his body. That's what it felt like when his heavy lids flutter on and he finds himself in the hospital bed with an IV drip in his right hand. The whole room is quiet and he is alone. Then there's someone there he cannot see...

He drifts back to another heavy slumber.

Sometimes he would hear someone crying beside him... weak and breaking... sometimes he finds the silhouette of the man haunting his dreams... sometimes he wants to reach out to stop him from breaking... He knows he's heard that sobs before... somewhere in his distant memory... watching a man on the couch cry his heart out as the scenic wall breaks into the rising of the sun...

Castiel blanky stares to nothing in particular.

A brief confusing pause where he tried opening his lips and felt it wet and warm. Not chapped as he thought it would be for this isn't the first time he wakes up in a hospital. He only has to remember the circumstance and then... He looks to his left side to where the vacant sofa can be found. The empty spot makes him frown. Hovering from consciousness these past three days, he always wakes up in the middle of the night with the couch occupied by a certain person.

Someone he knows for a fact was a rebel.

 _“You lost your memories of the past two months, Cassie_.” He remembers Gabriel telling him on his first night of finally pulling himself from the drowning sensation of sleepiness from all the morphine and medication. Gabriel takes care of him well. “ _Since you returned, actually, from your mission. And uh… hate to tell you this bro, but the brusque who’s been staring at you like you’re his runaway dream? That’s actually your husband.”_

“That rebel is my husband?” he asks slowly, memories of the number of times he’s read Dean Winchester’s latest acts Outside from scavenging food, fighting with VOLTs, and leading the Resistors. That rebel now is his husband?

_“Yeah, kind of a complicated play, but he is the real thing.”_

_“I don’t get it, why would I marry a rebel?”_

“It’s a forced marriage.” Comes the rebel’s voice from the doorway. Castiel transfixes him with a look. He can see the man leaning on the frame of the door, scowling at Gabriel. His left cheek has this long red gash mended only with a couple of stitches. Castiel has the urge to ask if it’s painful but finds himself just watching. Dean walks away after that, but Castiel is sure he saw tears in his eyes.

Something about the man makes his heartache. And one thing Castiel has learned over his stay in outer space, alone, by himself? Never to doubt himself and his feelings. It’s the only thing he can trust in the vast universe to be real. So, when Dean returns from somewhere with a cup of coffee in his hands, he finds Castiel sitting erect on the bed, watching him intently with glazed blue eyes.

So, when Gabriel asks him, “What’s your plan now, Cassie? You gonna divorce him or what?”

“I want to find myself again.” Castiel says without a doubt, “I want to reach for the stars.”

Yes. He wants to be what he knows he can understand. Something within his reach. Be a Skywalker again. He doesn't know what the society is like now, being cooped up in his little space but Meg has been around to fill the gap, and Gabriel is there too. Then that man always hovering in the background, morose and sad, always lurking. Watching. Castiel pays him no heed.

He understands the WEDLOCKED. He understands everything that happened. But he doesn't understand why the man remains haunting not only his dream where his tears burn something in Castiel's chest but also his wrapped reality. What does he want?

Does he want to shackle me? Not let me be free?

Castiel fears that. He doesn't like being chained, the horror of those chains around his wrists is enough. He doesn't need a reminder of this, and yet this man is still here... _why?_

* * *

Castiel is pulled from his midnight thoughts when the door opens and then there stands the man, the hero, as he heard, who saved Earthsea. Two weeks in the hospital with a small conversation between them, Castiel can say the rigid captain of the free paramilitary is quite impressive. He doesn't tell him that. But he finds himself wanting to go closer. Everyday. Every time he wakes up and finds him there, pain eases away. The man is like a drug. He wonders if he can take the drug up the sky too.

But his drug is sad again, like the many times Castiel sees him hanging at the back of the room with tight lips and unhappy eyes. Castiel knows he is the reason but tonight is different. When Dean enters and Castiel sees him with his green eyes gazing up gently, sadly, it cuts through Castiel’s heart. It makes him slide his legs to the edge of the bed without thinking. The disorientation threatened to become full-blown vertigo.

“Dean?” he doesn't know why it's important to reach him. Why he seems more desperate than the man, even.

“Cas?” The man steps aggressively toward him but Castiel doesn’t feel any threat to defend himself. This man, his body understands even if his mind is telling him to defend himself, this man is not going to hurt him. Dean catches him in his arm but for all the aggressiveness, Dean stops there. He doesn't pull or gather Castiel. He doesn't embrace and this, Castiel finds a little odd. He doesn't remember but his body is protesting to be held closer. 

Dean doesn't, Castiel's heart aches a little more. Why...

Dean's eyes are swimming in tears. Castiel cups his face, shaking. It's all unfamiliar to him, but his body knows... _his body knows..._

“D- do you remember me? Do you remember me passing the rings now?”

Rings? Castiel looks down his finger. There are no rings there. He lifts his eyes in confusion. He shakes his head with a deadpan expression. Dean's face crumples. Castiel doesn't know what to do- what do you do with a brawny man crying in your arms?

"Dean..." he says and the name sings of familiarity. Their eyes connect and it's all pain and regret and things Castiel didn't want to see even to a known enemy. Dean grips his wrist, mouth quivering. Then Dean is crushing him in a fierce hug.

“I’m sorry! I should not have left you! Oh, Cas!”

Running his hand on his smooth and silky hair, he lets the man embrace him. Peace fills him. His touch is driving away from the disturbing sense of emptiness he has had since waking up. He doesn’t move and lets the man give him strength in standing. The man doesn’t let go. Dean doesn't let go. Castiel stares for a second at the vast galaxy on his wall. He hadn't noticed... the screen has changed to his galaxy... and as he thought of it, nothing in that vast universe ever made him feel so... warm.

He raises both hands and embraces Dean back, his heart thumping hard against his chest.

And somehow, he knows without realizing, everything is going to be okay.

He grips the man’s shoulders and pushes him away gently. He looks in the puffy eyes that must be crying for him since the beginning. His green-eyed nebula.

“Dean.”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“Take me home. Our home.”

* * *

“You said you’re going to eat.” He chides, sitting down on the side of the bed.

Castiel stares at him openly. “Why are you doing this?”

Dean’s face grows somber. “I… told you already remember, I’m your husband…”

They both looked down at their hands. The rings are gone. Dean peers closely at Castiel’s eyes, the corner of his mouth curls in pain as he takes Castiel’s hand.

“You don’t have to force yourself to remember. Just know… I’m always going to be here now. I’m never gonna leave you again.”

An hour later, Castiel casts Dean a half-amused, half cold look. Dean is standing at the end of the bed holding a sheet glass tablet with signed documentation records on his form that says—

_Patient: Castiel Novak_

_Room 456 Released form signed._

_Guardian: Dean Winchester_

Relationship to Patient: Husband

“See?” Dean taps on the tablet, “I’m your husband, I’m not lying.”

Castiel quietly takes it all in and heaves a heavy sigh. “I don’t remember getting married.” He says finally. Dean rounds to the side of the bed where Castiel is now looking. Dean looks imploringly at him. Sometimes it’s just good to mess with the man claiming to be his husband. Castiel doesn’t remember anything but it doesn’t mean he’s not living in the present.

For one, Dean has been a good company. Charming at least. He never doubted anything they told him. Aside from all the evidence, like Dean’s suddenly big on finding all the charts of their days together, Castiel knew in his heart he trusts him.

Being with Dean sparks joy in his little heart. Whenever Dean talks about Sam who Gabriel had taken under his wing after all the trouble of keeping him concealed, Sam, visiting him and giving him the biggest hug and thanking him for taking care of Dean. Gabriel smiling from ear to ear at their little family meeting. And Dean with an easy smile and silly jokes. It brings him joy, he cannot explain why.

Just Dean’s presence is able to make him feel peace and love whether it's their time in the kitchen together, whether they watch movies (something about Titanic triggers a memory that made him a little dizzy), but overall he knows what he and Dean had from the start. That had to be real.

He lays his head on his shoulder and snuggles so closely on Dean’s chest.

The love Dean is showering him with is enough to fill the void. But Castiel hesitates.

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, Dean. I think you do love me. But I want to find hat part of me that loves you too, to compensate… I think it’s unfair that I have forgotten you… and it hurts me when I see the sadness in your eyes… I think it’s not enough that you love me. I want to find myself. I want to find my love for you…”

There’s a gentle touch on his head. 

“Don’t you love me now?”

“We’ve only just been back home three days…”

“Yeah… I guess… you have other plans now, huh…” Dean doesn’t say anything as they sit on the couch. Castiel fiddles with his fingers.

“Dean—”

“Cas—"

They both glance at each other, then chuckle.

“Go first, Dean.”

“Nah, you go first.”

“Please, Dean.”

“Mmm… okay… I heard you planned to go on another space mission.”

Castiel sharply turns to Dean. He doesn’t need to ask where Dean is already straining himself.

“How long have you known?”

“Three days ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“True. I’m sorry if you had to worry for several days, but actually I was planning to tell you eventually and make a proposition.” Castiel says in all determination. He sees Dean’s eyes flicker in anticipation.

“Proposition?” he swallows, “W-what you have in mind, Cas?”

Castiel stares at the green orbs.

“I want you to join me on this space mission, Dean.”

Dean’s face fell.

“What?”

* * *

“Are you sure this is safe?” Dean swallows hard. Castiel lets go of the controls and leaves the console to stand in front of Dean.

“Why are you so pale?” he teases.

Dean shifts on his feet, “I… I’m not, it’s nothing.”

“Dean?” Castiel’s face turns in concern, “Are you… are you afraid of aircraft?” he certainly recognizes the signs. Dean doesn’t answer. Castiel’s eyes widen and he pulls Dean to sit down. “I apologize, Dean, I didn’t know you were afraid—oh, take a seat, let me get the medication—”

“I’m fine.” Dean grimaces, pulling Castiel back to the small space inside the hatch, “I’m good as long as you’re with me. In fact, I feel so happy you wanted me to come and not just leave me when you decided to take on the mission. Also…”

Dean pulls out his necklace hanging his neck with what Castiel can only recognize as a pendant with a long face and strange animal horn. It looks so familiar. But it’s the two dark rings hanging with it that get Castiel’s attention. He takes one and slips it on Castiel’s ring finger. He lifts it up and kisses it.

“This…” Castiel whispers, his eyes widening at the material, “Dean…”

“It’s made from a meteorite,” Dean says, green eyes glinting, “After you told me your dream of finding this rare stuff, I remember there was this slob of a rock in my room that I used to throw around. Sammy told me it’s a meteorite, you know he’s a geek. I didn’t believe him until you said you hoped to find one. So, after I ran from you and we planned to take over the city, I went back to my old place and took this. I knew what I wanted to do with this the moment I returned here. I was gonna get you back and marry you properly, no threats, nothing. But you forgot me so I thought, yeah delay it a bit. But since you’re still so in love with me… I found the opportunity now. The galaxy married us just now, Cas. I’m yours forever, and you are mine.”

Tears well in his eyes. Castiel reaches for the other meteorite ring and slips in on Dean’s other hands. They locked eyes, full of love and joy, then Dean puts his hand on Castiel’s flaming cheeks and pulls him into a wet and noisy kiss.

“I am so in love with you, Castiel Novak. Please be my husband forever.”

“Oh, Dean.”

And they kiss again under the galactic space with meteor showers above their heads. Castiel wishes to remember someday, but he will not be living in the past. Dean is here with him, supporting, loving. Memories can be lost, it can be gained, it can also be made.

One thing, from the bottom of his heart, without any explanation, he loves Dean.

**Author's Note:**

> Graphic violence and noncon plays out! Thank you for turning another page!


End file.
